


Dreams of Wings and Shadow

by ShortWork



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: After Neverland, Dream Sex, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:13:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27017866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShortWork/pseuds/ShortWork
Summary: Hook shivered at her explorations. “Easy love,” he warned, his eyes boring into hers. “I can feel that.”“How do you feel a set of wings made out of shadow?” Emma asked.“Feels a bit like you’re running your hand down the bare skin of my back,” he replied, raising a brow at her.Later that night, Emma started having some very explicit dreams about the winged Captain.
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Comments: 34
Kudos: 142





	1. Chapter 1

Emma had no idea how to navigate a ship. At all. 

When it came to getting back home from Neverland, Emma and her allies, as well as the remaining Lost Boys they picked up along the way, were left in Hook’s capable hands. 

But she did have an idea about Hook. She had kept a close eye on him enough times to notice when something was up. And as she watched him steer the Jolly Roger through the night sky on a shadowy black sail, she could tell he was off. Emma climbed up the quarterdeck stairs to the helm to find out what.

“Something’s wrong,” she said, approaching the Captain.

Hook barely looked at her as he adjusted the heading on the ship. His eyes were glued to the sky, looking from one quadrant to the next. “What makes you say that, love?”

“You keep looking up at different sets of stars,” she replied. “I’m no navigator but I thought we’d be watching our destination.” 

“Had I known you were keeping such a close eye on me I would have put on a better show,” he said, glancing back down at her with a raised brow before turning his attention back to the stars.

“Hook,” Emma said, putting her hand on his arm. That got his attention, and he finally tuned to look at her. “What’s going on? Are we lost?”

“No, not lost,” he sighed. “Just farther afield from where we should be.”

“I thought the way home was just second star to the right and straight on till morning,” Emma said, pulling her hand away and crossing her arms.

“That’s how you get to Neverland, love. It’s not too tricky to head the other way, if you’ve got a sail that’s willing to cooperate,” he replied, nodding up to the mast. Emma followed his gaze up to the shadowy black sail. “The last time I sailed out of Neverland by air it was with a pegasus sail. A sail made out of Pan’s shadow catches the air differently, and we’ve been a bit at its whim.”

Emma sighed. “Figures Pan would be able to screw us over even after we leave Neverland.”

“I’ve still got us going in the right direction, but it’s going to take a bit longer with nefarious currents working against us,” Hook said, shaking his head.

“So we won’t be home by morning, then?”

“Three days,” he corrected. “At least.”

“We don’t have enough supplies to last that long,” she said.

“You learn to stretch what you have at sea,” Hook replied. “I can make what we have last, but our portions will be meager.”

“Just get us back, Hook,” Emma said, finding her hand on his arm again. “Please.”

“I’ll see you and your boy home, Emma. You can count on that,” he said, giving her a slow nod. “I’ve still got the way to Storybrooke in my sights.”

“How can you tell?” she asked, looking out at the sparkling night sky.

“That patch of stars to the right,” he said, raising his hook out to point somewhere at the hundreds of stars in front of them.

“Which one?” Emma asked, shaking her head in disbelief. Even with constellations she had no idea how anyone could tell the difference between one corner of the star soup or the other.

“Let me show you,” Hook said, his voice dropping to a lower register. He shifted her closer, pulling her arm until she was standing at the wheel, then leaned in behind her, his face right above her shoulder. He pointed his arm out so it was straight in front of her line of sight. “Those bright stars in the shape of a cup. You see how they’re more red than the others around them? That’s the way to your world.”

Emma fought hard to surprises a shiver at the sound of his voice right by her ear. He was close enough that she could feel his breath on her cheek. She forced on a disaffected smile, not wanting him to see what kind of effect he had on her, then turned her face to his, just inches from her own.

“Smooth,” she said.

“You’ve got your boy back,” he said, glancing down at the main deck where Henry was milling around somewhere. “Now the fun can begin.”

Emma huffed out a mirthless laugh and ducked away from the heat of his body, taking a few steps back toward the stern of the ship. “We still haven’t made it home yet,” she pointed out.

“You keep changing the rules of the game, love,” Hook replied, tying off the wheel and turning to face her. “But that won’t keep me from winning your heart.”

“I don’t play games, Hook,” Emma shot back, rolling her eyes at him. “Not with hearts on the line.”

“It’s always a game. You just play for keeps,” he said, stepping closer into her space. “And so do I.”

“Captain!” Henry’s voice called front he main deck. Hook turned around at his call, and Emma allowed herself to breathe again. 

“What the bloody hell is that?” he said, rushing back to his post at the wheel. 

Emma walked up to stand beside him, looking out into the stars to see a dark triangular shape rising up from the clouds in the distance in front of them, approaching fast. She narrowed her eyes, catching bright spots of green all over it and a strip of white at the base.

“Is that—”

“An island,” Hook supplied.

Emma’s jaw dropped as the land mass floated higher above the clouds, rising up to meet the Jolly Roger. She couldn’t tell if they were speeding toward it or if the island was coming to them, but it was getting closer faster than she thought possible. 

“I’ve got to change tack,” Hook said, before shouting out to everyone else on the ship. “Everyone hold on!” 

He pulled the wheel hard to starboard, sending everyone that was up on deck falling to the floor. Emma had just about tumbled over the quarterdeck railing at the impact, letting herself drop the rest of the way over onto the main deck to land on her feet. She rushed over to Henry sprawled on the deck next to the mast, and helped him to his feet. 

“You okay, kid?” she asked, looking around at the other passengers to see if everyone was all right.

“Yeah, just lost my balance,” he replied, brushing off his pants. 

Neal sprang up from below deck, darting over to Emma and Henry to check on them before asking, “What’s going on?”

“We’ve got to truss up the main sail, Neal!” Hook shouted down from the helm. 

“Aye aye, Captain!” Neal called back, before leaping up onto the rigging to climb up the mast.

Emma blinked in surprise at the exchange. Whatever competition was going on between the two men seemed to disappear when the sailing got serious. She followed Neal over to the rigging to look out over the port side of the ship with Henry. The hard turn in direction seemed to take the wind out of the sails, but the strong momentum of the Jolly Roger was still carrying them closer to the island.

As it got nearer, Emma could see the details of the island more clearly. It was daytime on the shore somehow, despite the sea of stars hanging above it, with the water lapping at the shoreline just falling in endless waterfalls down into the sky below. Half of the jungle in the center of the island was draped in stark shadows, so deep and dark that it was as if it were daytime in the sunlight and nighttime in the shade. 

“It’s so… shadowy,” Emma muttered, turning to look down at Henry leaning over the railing by her side. 

Coming to the same conclusion, Emma and Henry looked up at the shadow sail driving the Jolly Roger.

“Maybe the shadow took us home. _His_ home,” Henry said.

Regina, Gold, and her parents had all made their way up onto the main deck and began assessing the situation, opting to approach either Emma or Hook, or place themselves somewhere in between.

“An island of shadows is no place where we want to be,” Gold said, looking out at the land mass they had almost reached.

“So get us out of here, Hook,” David said, twisting back to look at the Captain above them. “Why are you taking us closer to that thing?”

“There’s not much of a choice now, brace yourselves!” Hook said quickly, trying one last time to turn the ship further. 

There was a loud thud as the Jolly Roger came to a sudden halt, sending the boat tilting hard on its port side. Emma squeezed her eyes shut and held on tightly to Henry as she gripped the side of the ship, feeling the ship reach the depth of its tilt before pausing and slowly swaying back upright again.

“Mom, you’re hurting me,” Henry said, wriggling out of her grasp.

“Sorry,” she said, letting him go. “It’s just that I _just_ got you back.”

A shout rang out above them, and Emma looked up to see Neal’s legs dangling down from the main sail. “Neal! Are you okay!”

“Yeah, I’m good!” he called, scrambling back up onto the yard.

Satisfied that he was all right, she gave a brief once over to the rest of the ship’s passengers before turning back to look over the side of the ship. The port bow of the Jolly Roger was stuck in the white sand on the edge of the island. Somehow, while sailing on a magic ship through the night sky, they had managed to run aground. Typical.

Hook bounded down the quarterdeck stairs. “That bloody sail brought us here for a reason,” he said, pointing up at the shadow sail with his hook. “I’ve a sense we won’t be able to leave until we’ve seen what it wants us to see.” He stalked his way over to the starboard bow to pull on a large lever, releasing the anchor. 

His features were stormy as his gaze found Emma’s, before his eyes widened and he turned back to the anchor, somehow still falling. The ship shuddered again and tilted starboard, causing Emma to sway on her feet as she walked. She managed to right herself just as the ship did, and made her way over to where Hook was looking down over the side of the ship.

“There’s no bottom,” Emma said, watching the anchor swaying out above the clouds below them. The port bow might have been run aground on the edge of the island, but the starboard side of the ship was just hanging out in space.

Gold released an annoyed sigh behind them, causing Emma to turn just in time to see him flick his wrist. The anchor flew over the ship to the sand on the port side, sending her diving to the deck to avoid getting hit by the chain trailing out behind it.

“Could you be more bloody careful!” Hook shouted at Gold, bending down to help Emma to her feet.

“I could say the same about your sailing,” Regina cut, striding up next to Gold and throwing her hands on her hips. “Some legendary captain you are. Who runs aground in the middle of the sky?”

“A captain that’s never encountered a flying island before,” he shot back, not bothering to look at Regina as he began to climb up into the rigging to get to the mast. “Considering the ship is still in one piece, Your Majesty, I’d say I handled the situation as best I could.” He hoisted himself up onto the yard above the black sail, and maneuvered over to speak to Neal. Emma could only just make out what they were saying from below.

“Can you see anything on the island?” Hook asked. 

Neal shook his head. “Just looks like a bunch of trees from here.”

Hook pulled out his spyglass from a pocket inside his coat and lifted it to his eye, looking out at the trees near the shore. “We need to check for leaks below deck,” he said. “Hopefully the sand was soft enough to avoid any serious damage to the ship.”

“I’m on it,” Neal said, before swinging back down onto the main deck by a rope. 

Mary Margaret walked up beside Emma, peering out at the island. She turned and craned her neck to look back up at Hook above them. “What do you see?” Mary Margaret called.

“There appear to be fig trees on the shoreline,” Hook shouted back. “And there’s birds nesting in the sand. Looks like pheasants.” He retracted the spyglass and stowed it back in his coat pocket. Grabbing a rope, he swung back down to the main deck in front of them. “We can resupply on this island,” he said, looking at Emma.

“You’re not suggesting we set foot on those shores,” Mary Margaret balked. 

“We may not have a choice,” Emma said, shaking her head. “The shadow sail has pulled us out away from home and we’re going to need more food if we want to eat more than a few scraps a day.”

“Can you hit pheasant with that bow?” Hook asked Mary Margaret.

The look she shot back was cutting. “Please,” she deadpanned.

“Then I’ll go with you,” Emma said. “I can pick up fruit and eggs while you’re bird hunting.”

“I’ll provide the backup,” Regina said, stepping in with a fireball in hand.

“We’ll need to tighten that sail to keep it under heel,” Hook added, gesturing up at the black sail. “I’ll join you to grab some more supplies for rope. What we’ve got may not be enough.”

“Then we have our away team,” Emma said, nodding to the other three. She turned to face Gold, still standing a few feet away. “Gold, do you think you can use your magic to get the ship unstuck?”

“Most likely,” he replied in a bored tone. “But I can’t guarantee the ship won’t fall out of the sky when I’m finished.”

“We’ll have to be quick then,” she replied, turning back to her team. “Packs, weapons, brief goodbyes, then meet back here in five minutes.”

They scattered, with Emma heading below deck first. She found Neal’s cutlass and her satchel in the crew quarters, strapping the sword to her back and slinging the bag across her shoulders. She ran into Neal just as she was about to climb back up to the main deck. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, noticing her preparations. “You’re not going to the island, are you?”

“We need supplies for the trip back,” Emma said.

Neal gave a determined nod. “I’ll join you.”

“No,” Emma put up a hand. “We need someone who can sail this thing home if we don’t make it back.”

“What, so Hook’s going with you?” Neal asked, pulling a face. “Emma, the Captain’s supposed to be stuck with the ship. I should be with you.”

“You have to protect Henry,” she pressed. “We’ll probably need Regina’s magic on that island, and at least one of Henry’s three parents needs to stay here to keep an eye on him.” Neal slumped as he took in her reasoning. “Besides,” Emma added. “You were a Lost Boy once, you can watch them in case they decide they don’t want to play nice anymore while Gold tries to dig out the Jolly Roger.”

“Fine,” Neal replied, his voice flat and unsatisfied. 

When Emma headed back above deck, Hook had already lowered the gangplank and climbed down into the water. Mary Margaret followed right after him. Hook played the part of the gentleman and held out his hook to steady Mary Margaret before she splashed down into the clear, shallow water.

Regina released Henry from the tight embrace she had him trapped in before making her way down the gangplank. “I got it,” she said to Hook, holding out a hand of refusal to his offered help. 

Hook turned back to Emma, waiting expectantly. She took a deep breath and planted a kiss on the top of Henry’s head, trying hard not to think about the possibility of her not making it back. “I’ll see you in a bit,” she said, before turning and climbing down the gangplank. 

She took Hook’s hand when she offered it, but still managed to stumble a little when a returning wave lifted the gangplank a few inches. Hook’s other arm swept out and caught her by the waist, steadying her before she fell face first into the water.

“I’ve got you, love,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Thanks,” she replied, pulling out of his grip. She resolutely kept her eyes forward instead of looking back at Hook as she stepped into the water. She didn’t want to see if Neal had been watching either, knowing he’d probably be grinding his teeth at her and Hook’s little exchange.

“All right,” Emma said, once they had all gathered on the shore. She turned her attention towards Hook. “You said you saw birds nests?”

“Due east,” he said, pointing down the beach behind her. 

With a sharp nod, Emma turned, and they all began making their way across the sparkling white sands to find the nesting grounds. 

“It’s almost beautiful,” Mary Margaret commented as they walked. “The bright light of the day on the sands, with the sparkling stars of the night in the sky.”

“Which is probably a sign that it’s dangerous,” Regina said. “The most poisonous animals have the brightest coloring.”

They only had to walk for a few more minutes before they nearly stumbled over the birds nests. Emma opened up her satchel and began to collect eggs from one of the nests and stuffed them away in her bag. 

“Pheasants don’t usually build their nests out in the open sand like this,” Mary Marget commented. But she stayed focused on her objective, drawing an arrow and preparing her bow as she began creeping toward one of the groups of birds sitting together on the shore.

“They may not be normal pheasants,” Regina commented. “Are we sure they’re safe to eat?”

“We can save these supplies for last, but we might not care once we’re hungry enough,” Emma said.

Regina answered with a shrug and turned back to the water, noticing a small tidal pool that had formed a few feet down the shore. Whipping up her magic, she blasted the water out of the pool and grinned smugly down at the fish that had been beached on the rocks left behind. She bent to pick up the fish and put them in her purse. “I’m never going to get the smell out of this,” she mumbled.

While the ladies were occupied with gathering food, Emma spied Hook using his sword to cut through a heavy vine that was stretched out along the sand. He looped up the vine into a rope and hefted it up around his shoulder, before moving on to another vine, trimming smaller vine tendrils off of one of the larger ones. He paused to consider one of the smaller vines he had cut for a moment, before wrapping one end around his hook and tying it in a knot with his teeth. He swayed the vine back and forth experimentally, before lashing it out like a whip, the other end snapping with a satisfying crack. 

His mouth parted in a pleased grin, before he turned back to catch Emma watching him, raising an eyebrow at her when she noticed her attention. Emma tried to look away, to not make it so obvious that she had been staring at him, but she was too stuck up in her head after what she just saw. Hook already had the leather part down, once he added on the whips and ropes Emma was powerless to fight back a very specific type of mental image. 

“Something you need from me, love?” Hook asked, sauntering up to her with a confident smirk plastered to his face.

His nearness finally snapped Emma back to the present, and she fought hard to keep the blush from rising on her cheeks. “Figs,” she said, surprised to find her mouth so dry. 

Hook’s smile widened, before he took a few steps back. “As you wish,” he said, finally turning around and heading towards a fruited sapling that was growing out on the sand.

Emma was struck by the unusual sense of how uncommonly normal everything felt. They were getting all the supplies they needed without incident, and it was almost like this was just a lovely day at the beach for a group of average people. Her mom was exploring the shore, her friend was fishing in the shallows, and the cute guy she liked was flirting with her in the sand. 

Except that none of that was right. Mary Margaret was the mother she never knew, Regina was hardly her friend, and her relationship with Hook was one she was better off not examining too closely. Not to mention that the beach in question was a floating island that had sprung up on their flying pirate ship. It all made Emma suddenly feel tense as hell. It was like this whole island was just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

She decided she had enough eggs, and stood up, itching to get back to the ship as soon as possible. Emma began walking over to Mary Margaret just as she bagged one of the pheasants. The birds scattered away from where their companion had fallen, moving further down the beach.

Mary Margaret bent to pick up the pheasant and put it in her bag, looking back at the retreating birds with a perplexed expression on her face. She looked back at Emma when she stepped up beside her. 

“The birds aren’t trying to find cover in the brush,” Mary Margaret pointed out. “That’s not like any pheasant I’ve ever seen.”

“I wouldn’t trust that brush either,” Regina said, coming up to join them. “Not with the kind of shadows we saw from the shore.”

Emma’s attention snapped over to Hook. She had asked him to gather figs, but she found him standing nearer to the tree line, still careful of the shadows under the trees. She saw him turn, watching a bird that had gotten too close to him darting around him in the sand. It changed course again, seeming to avoid something else in its path before turning back and running in the direction it had originally been going.

“It’s not the brush,” Hook said, backing away until he was closer to the rest of the group. 

“The birds are avoiding the shadows of the trees,” Mary Margaret pointed out.

“Nobody touch the shadows,” Regina said. 

“I’m not so certain they’re shadows,” Hook said, directing their attention to the nearest palm tree. The shadow on the dark side of the tree seemed to shimmer and shift for a second, before it started sliding off the trunk and slithered to the ground. They all startled several steps backwards at the sight.

“We should go,” Emma said, turning to run back towards the Jolly Roger. 

“Yup,” Mary Margaret agreed as the rest of the group fell into a run alongside Emma.

Emma chanced a look back. The shadow had started to rise up from the sand and take on the shape of a person. A panicked gasp fell out of her mouth, before she turned and faced forward again, running a little faster to get to the ship. All the trees along the beach seemed to be shifting as they ran past them, more and more shadows falling down onto the ground to creep toward them. It wasn’t long before the darkness started slipping off of the trees before they reached them, the whole island starting to writhe with living shadows.

A figure swooped down over their heads above them, flying back up high in the sky as it raced them to the ship.

“Is it like Pan’s shadow?” Mary Margaret asked between steps.

The shadow up in the sky swooped back around to face them, turning its featureless face and glowing white eyes back to the group. Just before it dove back down to attack them, it paused in the air to stretch out a pair of massive, shadowy bat wings.

“This looks worse,” Hook replied. 

Regina lobbed a fireball up at the creature just as it swooped down over their heads. The fire hit home right in the middle of its chest just as its hands reached Emma. The shadow monster let out an evaporating hiss before falling to the ground in a mass of quickly fading shadow.

Emma almost allowed herself a triumphant smile before she heard a horrible shrieking rise up from all around them. The rest of the shadows had begun to stretch out their wings and take to the skies, all heading right for them. “I think that made them mad!” she gasped out.

The ship wasn’t much farther, and Emma could see Neal watching them on the gangplank before he ran back up onto the ship at the sight of the monsters chasing them. The Jolly Roger looked like it was floating above the water now, no longer stuck in the sand. They were ready to set sail, they just had to get back to the ship before the shadow monsters did.

Emma could hear all the kids’ shouts of fear as they were rushed below deck by Neal and Gold. As her group splashed into the water, David appeared up on the bow with his sword drawn. 

“Weigh anchor!” Hook called as he held the gangplank steady for the women to board. One of the winged monsters flew right towards Hook just as the rest of the away team scrambled on board. He lashed out with the vine whip still attached to his hook, forcing the shadow to shrink back from him. 

Neal appeared back above deck and started operating the pulley to get the anchor back onto the boat. Emma reached a hand out to Hook, pulling him up and on board just as the shadows started to circle and descend on them. Regina started flinging fireballs up into the crowd of shadow monsters, causing more of them to disintegrate. 

“Be careful of the rigging and the sails!” Hook called to Regina, drawing his sword.

Emma drew out her cutlass, swinging the blade at one of the shadows that had swooped down towards her. Slashing through it didn’t seem to do much, so she thrust her sword right into the darkness where its heart should be. The shadow was stunned, floating backwards in the air for a beat before it seemed to shake it off, flying back up into the group of monsters. She saw an arrow strike another shadow in the heart above her, with similar results.

“Only fire kills them!” Emma called out. “Swords and arrows just stun them!”

“I’m not much help out here, then!” David called back. Emma saw him ducking back down below deck, probably to switch off with Gold in protecting the kids so Gold could use his magic up on the monsters in the air.

“Anchor’s away, Captain!” Neal shouted to Hook. 

“Then it’s time to shove off!” Hook replied, lashing out his whip at another shadow. “Neal, take the helm!”

“Aye aye, Captain!” Neal called back, running up the stairs to position himself at the wheel, while Hook pulled at the ropes near the bottom of the mast to lower the shadow sail. The ship heaved slowly upward in response, turning gently to the starboard side as they began to move away from the island. Gold chose that moment to make his appearance above deck and joined in the fray. 

Emma, meanwhile, had given up on trying to make a fireball that could rival Regina’s. She had instead taken a stand beside Mary Margaret and started setting tiny little fires on the heads of her arrows, before she let them fly at the shadowy hearts. It was a lot slower than Regina’s attacks, but Emma was glad she could at least do something. Between Regina’s and Gold’s attacks, and Emma and Mary Margaret’s combo, the shadow monsters flying around above the ship started to disperse, retreating back into the jungle of the floating island while the ship sailed away. 

Though most of the shadow monsters had fled, Emma saw a few more still flying up around in the rigging, and one of them was even trying to untie the shadow sail. Hook must have spotted them before she had, because she saw him appear up on the mainsail yard and crack his whip out at the monster. Emma turned back towards Mary Margaret’s notched arrow and set it alight, waiting for her to fire, while the remaining shadows were taken down by Regina and Gold.

Hook whipped out at the last creature from his spot above the shadow sail, but this time, the monster grabbed the whip and yanked back hard, pulling Hook off of the yard with it. The shadow monster’s wings began flapping more heavily, straining under the effort of having to support the weight of a person made out of flesh and blood. It was slowly making its way over to the edge of the ship, clearly intending to drop Hook over the side as he climbed up the length of vine. 

“Shoot it!” Emma cried at Mary Margaret.

Mary Margaret shook her head, still aiming at the creature. “I can’t get a good angle without hitting Hook!” she replied.

Hook had managed to reach the shadow monster at the top of the vine just before it could drop him over the side, and he plunged his hook into its chest. Just like when the other shadows were hit with a sword in the heart, the monster was stunned and floated backwards. Hook’s added weight caused them both to go falling over the side of the ship and into the dark night below.

“Killian!” Emma screamed. She felt her heart drop and her blood freeze at the sight of the empty space where Hook had just been. Emma rushed over to the side of the ship, trying to see if she could see him falling, but he was nowhere to be seen. “Where...” she breathed out, feeling her eyes burn as she searched for him.

All too close for comfort, a dark shape flew out from under the ship and swooped high above their heads, causing Emma to fall back on her rear. She saw Regina ready a fireball and Mary Margaret notch an arrow just as the figure landed right in the middle of the main deck in a crouch.

But instead of a shadow monster, it was Hook that stood up straight from the crouch, stretching out a pair of imposing black wings behind him. 

Emma released something that she wasn’t sure was either a laugh or a gasp, as she dragged herself to her feet. 

“Wings!?” Mary Margaret said, approaching Hook with the rest of the group, while Neal tied the wheel off and came down to join them. “How did you get wings?” 

Hook turned his head to regard the shadowy appendages with curiosity, folding them up so they came to rest as tall peaks above their heads. “I’ve no idea,” he replied. “The creature vanished when we fell overboard. Somehow its wings ended up attached to me. I wasn’t too keen on the idea of falling to my death so I decided to give them a go.”

“You do realize the shadow monster is probably stuck to you somehow now,” Regina pointed out. “It may even be inside you.”

Hook looked down and brought his hand up to his chest, rubbing the spot over his heart. “I don’t _feel_ any different,” he said, looking back up. 

“No urge to terrorize orphans?” Emma asked, walking up closer to him. “Maybe you suddenly want to release the shadow sail?”

“I don’t even really feel the wings,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, causing the huge wings to shift up and down. “Just feels like a stretch of the shoulders,” he added, demonstrating by stretching the wings out to the side. They must have had a twenty foot wingspan. He brought them back in closer, and Emma reached out to touch them.

“Are they solid?” she asked.

“Don’t touch them!” Neal cried. Emma looked back at him in surprise, her hand already on one of Hook’s wings.

Though it was see-through at the edges like a shadow, it felt warm and slightly leathery. The wing’s shape looked more like a bat’s than a bird’s, so maybe this was what a bat felt like. As Emma ran her hand down the length of the wing, she realized it mostly just felt like skin.

Hook shivered at her explorations. “Easy love,” he warned, his eyes boring into hers. “I can feel that.”

“How do you feel a brand new limb?” Emma asked.

“Feels a bit like you’re running your hand down the bare skin of my back,” he replied, raising a brow at her.

“All right, let’s all stop touching the magic wings now,” Neal said, putting his hand over Emma’s and pulling it off of the wing.

“How do we get them off?” Mary Margaret asked.

“Not sure we need to get them off just yet,” Hook replied. “Having the ability to fly may come in handy on the voyage home.” He scooped up the vine he had brought back from the island from where it had fallen on the deck and flapped his huge wings, flying up to the yard with the shadow sail. He used the vine to tie down the sail tighter, then cutting it with his sword and flying over to the other end to tie down that side with the remaining vine. He grinned proudly back at them before flying back down to the deck. “That certainly went a lot easier, and this is already a magic ship.”

“I don’t like it,” Regina said, shaking her head at him.

“None of us do,” Gold added.

“You wouldn’t be saying that if the wings were on _your_ back,” Hook replied with a roll of his eyes. “Being able to fly is incredible.”

“You got them from a shadow monster, Hook!” Mary Margaret cried.

“Look,” Hook sighed, putting his hands out to placate her. “You can assign someone to keep watch over me every hour if you’re worried I’ll sabotage our voyage home.”

“Not good enough,” Neal replied. “We should lock you up.”

Hook lifted his chin at him, any trace of amusement on his face long gone. “That reeks of mutiny, sailor,” Hook said with a slow nod.

“Neal’s right,” Emma said in a low voice. “Just for tonight. Tomorrow we can reevaluate when there’s less chance you can sneak around under the cover of darkness.”

“You think I’m going to be sneaking around with these things?” Hook replied, clearly exasperated as he gestured back at the wings. “I’m not sure they’ll even fit in the lazarette.”

“I’m not saying we should throw you in the lazarette, but you should stay in the captain’s cabin for the rest of the night,” Emma said, shaking her head at him.

“And who’s going to captain my ship?” Hook asked, raising his brows at her. “You?”

“I’ll do it,” Neal said, stepping forward. “You know I can.”

Hook looked back at him, the hesitation clear on his features. “Do you know the way home?” he asked.

“The patch of stars in the northeast quadrant,” Neal replied, tilting his head to the stars in question. “I had a good teacher,” he added with a weak smile.

“Bloody hell,” Hook muttered, before throwing up his hands. “Fine.” He ducked his way into the captain’s cabin, maneuvering around carefully to avoid crashing into things with his new wings, before he came back out with a brass key in his hand, holding it up for them all to see.

“Why do you have a key for the outside?” Emma asked.

“In case there’s nowhere else to stow prisoners,” he replied. “Or in case the captain is deemed a danger, like tonight.” He reached for Emma’s hand and placed the key in her palm. “I’m entrusting this to you, Emma. No one else has experience with locking me up.”

She smirked and rolled her eyes. “Just don’t get too attached to those things,” she said.

“I’m not even sure how I’m going to sleep on them,” he replied, turning back to hide himself away in the captain’s cabin. “Night, love,” he called, shutting the door.

Emma walked up to the door and turned the key in the lock, sealing him in. She stood there a moment longer than she needed to, and released a shaky sigh before turning back to the rest of the group. 

“We should all get some rest,” she said. “We have a long voyage ahead. Neal, are you good for the rest of the night?”

“I could use some company,” he answered, gesturing up to the helm.

Emma gave him a tight smile. “I just ran across a beach full of shadow monsters and fought a battle with what little magic powers I have. I’m kinda beat. Rain check?”

“Sure,” he replied, blinking gently at her. 

“I’ll keep watch with you, Bae,” Emma heard Gold say, as she made her way below deck.

She found her hammock, peeled off her boots and equipment, and fell into it. Even though they weren’t exactly at sea, the soft sway of the boat was calming and Emma felt sleep washing over her almost as soon as she closed her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just binged this whole show while stuck at home during the pandemic. I know there’s probably not much of a fan base left now that it’s over, but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. So for all five of you left to read this, enjoy. This is gonna be a smutty one.


	2. Chapter 2

The moon was full and high in the sky when Emma climbed back up to the main deck. She hated waking up in the middle of the night, but now that she was awake, getting some fresh night air seemed like a better idea than tossing and turning in a hammock with just her own thoughts for company.

She had only taken a single step toward the stairs to the quarterdeck when she froze. There at the helm stood the silhouette of a figure with massive wings backlit by the moon. Hook was at the wheel, steering the ship alone.

Emma put her hands on her hips and stared up at him, his face obscured in darkness. "What the hell are you doing out of your cabin?" she asked.

She managed to see the white flash of a smile in the dark shape, before he leaned over to tie the wheel off. He stretched out and flapped the imposing shadowy wings, then flew over her head and down to the main deck to land a few feet behind her.

Hook's features were revealed by the silvery moonlight as Emma turned around to face him. His eyes shone more gray than blue, his long eyelashes even darker against his skin, and the huge wings sparkled with a new translucence as they faced the moon. Something stirred low in Emma's belly at the sight.

"Neal got tired," he said, his face practically glowing in the soft light. "Let me out so I could relieve him."

"How?" Emma asked, giving him a little bewildered shake of her head. "I have the key." She reached down into her pants pocket, only to find that she was dressed in a thin, white cotton nightgown. She had never owned a nightgown like this in her life. What was going on?

"Looking for this, love?" Hooked asked, holding up the key to the captain's cabin in his hand. He took a step towards Emma. She stood her ground, trying to piece together how he had gotten the key away from her but having trouble focusing on anything other than how stunningly handsome he was in the moonlight.

"Hook—"

"Oh, we're back to Hook, are we?" he said, continuing to advance on her. Emma backed away from him this time, wary of letting him get too close when he had such a strong effect on her. "You know when I fell overboard I heard you scream my name."

Emma felt her back hit the hard mast, halting her retreat. He swung out his hook with the vine whip still attached to it, letting the vine wrap all the way around the mast with Emma up against it, binding her to it. Emma's eyebrows shot up in surprise as she struggled against her constraints, before Hook stepped closer to her with a shuffle of leather, his eyes drawing down her body.

"I'd like to get you screaming my name in other ways," he said, his voice low and dangerous. That voice would make her agree to almost anything.

"How is this—" Emma began, before cutting herself off with her dawning realization. "Am I... dreaming?"

"Not sure, love," Hook said, moving back around the mast, the huge wings brushing in close to her face as he moved. Emma watched as he bent to tie her arms out to the side, just the same way she had tied him to the tree when they first met. "Do you usually dream of me when you close your eyes at night?"

Emma thought back to earlier in the evening. "I don't remember waking up or getting out of my hammock," she said, shaking her head. She looked back up at Hook, standing in front of her again. Emma couldn't deny he was sexy even on a bad day, but the sensuality of her current situation was ramped up to new heights. "This _has_ to be a dream. I saw you using the whip on the beach, had steamy thoughts, and now it's turned into a vivid bondage dream."

"Let's say this _is_ a dream," Hook said. He brushed a lock of hair back from off of her shoulder. "If this is all in your head, then you're in control. I will only do _exactly_ what you want me to."

"If I'm in control then why did I dream up this ancient nightgown?" Emma asked, looking down at the old fashioned shift.

"If you don't like it, let's do away with it," Hook said, stepping back. He pulled out his sword and put the sharp tip right at her collar bone.

Emma flinched back away from the cold steel. The metal certainly _felt_ real against her skin.

"Trust me, love," he said, his eyes locking with hers with just the barest hint of a smile. That was a very loaded phrase to use between the two of them, but Emma stayed still regardless, curious as to what he would do.

Hook very slowly drew his sword down her body, cutting the thin nightgown down the middle.

Emma tried not to breathe, tried to keep the sword from coming into contact with her skin. But with every breath she took, she became more and more aware of her body, and just how much her chest was heaving against Hook's careful movements with the blade. Her skin felt too hot under the thin material, and she felt the relief of the cool night air wafting over her as the nightgown opened at the middle.

His sword stopped at the vines wrapped around her waist, just below her navel.

The nightgown was hanging open, but it still hung loosely down from her shoulders so that all that was revealed was her breastbone and her belly button. But with the way Hook was looking at her, she might as well have been completely naked. Emma shivered at the raw hunger in his eyes.

She still wasn't sure if she was dreaming or not. Hook was being way more forward than usual, suddenly playing the part she had pictured him in with the leather, whips, and ropes. And this weird, easily cuttable nightgown was something she would never knowingly put on while she was awake.

But this was all so incredibly vivid. She had such clarity of thought, all of her senses were alive with every little detail. And obviously, those giant wings sticking off of Hook's back meant something really weird could be happening here.

Emma wasn't sure if she should be excited or afraid. She looked at his eyes, his face pitched downward as he looked up at her through his lashes, a confident smirk on his lips as he waited for her to allow him to continue. Even those black wings towering over his head couldn't dull her attraction to him, not when the sexual tension had been simmering between them nearly the entire time they were in Neverland. Longer, if she was honest with herself.

But right now, with him looking downright mouthwatering in the moonlight and her wearing next to nothing, Emma knew she didn't want him to stop. She wanted to see what he would do next.

"Are you going to cut it the rest of the way?" she asked breathlessly.

Hook's smirk widened.

"Eager to get my sword between your legs, are you?" he asked.

_Cocky bastard_ , Emma thought.

With a quick flick of the wrist, Hook cut through the vines at her waist, leaving only her hands bound out to her sides. Her feet were planted firmly on the deck. She easily could writhe and scream, or kick out at him if she wanted to.

She didn't want to.

Hook stepped closer, planting his hand against the mast by her head as his wings curtained around them. He brought his face in to hers as if to kiss her, but when she parted her lips to receive him he paused. His lips hovered just above her mouth, and he put the round curve of his hook on her breastbone. He dragged it slowly down between her breasts, over her flat stomach, and paused at the place where the nightgown was still intact below her navel.

With a quick swipe, he brought his hook down, tearing the nightgown open the rest of the way. Emma suddenly realized she wasn't wearing any underwear.

"Do you want this, Emma?" he asked, his hot breath ghosting against her lips, scented with just the barest hint of rum.

She had never wanted anything more.

"Yes," she breathed, leaning in to kiss him. He leaned back, pulling his lips out of her reach and his hand away from the mast.

Emma gave him a pout, until he leaned in to whisper in her ear just as his fingers traced a path from her belly button to the sensitive flesh down below.

"And what is it exactly that you want?" he purred into her ear. His fingers circled her folds, then rubbed gently against the one spot where she wanted him most. "Tell me… specifically."

Emma gasped against his touch, throwing her head back against the mast. "I…" she whispered. Even knowing this was a dream, just saying it outright was something she needed to work herself up to.

But then Hooked worked her right up there himself. "Give me everything you have, Emma," he said, beginning to trail wet kisses along her neck. "I want to know."

She swallowed hard, turning her head towards him and wishing she could see his face. "I want you inside me."

His thumb shifted to that tender bundle of nerves while his index finger slipped slowly inside her. "Like this?"

Emma moaned, loving the sensation but knowing it wasn't enough. "More," she said.

He slipped a second finger inside her, pulled his digits slowly back out before slipping them deep back in again. "Will this suffice?" he asked.

Emma's breathing picked up, as Hook began to thrust his fingers in and out of her at a steady pace. This was good, it was _really_ good, but it wasn't what she was looking for. "No," she said, shaking her head against his. "I want _you_."

" _Me_?" he asked, stretching out the word, teasing her. "And how long have you wanted me, love?" He started sucking at the fluttering pulse point beneath her skin as his fingers continued their ministrations.

"Since the beanstalk," Emma answered honestly.

"And what was it about me that you wanted?" he asked.

"You could see through me. You could—" Emma let out a loud, shuddering gasp as he curled his fingers up inside of her. "Touch me," she finished.

"Why didn't you embrace me back then?" he asked, pushing the useless scraps of nightgown down with his hook so he could trail kisses down to her shoulder. "Why did you chain me up, turn me away?"

"I was afraid to—" she paused to let out a moan, feeling the mounting pressure from his talented fingers. "Let you in."

"Oh, but I'm in _now_ , aren't I, love?" he growled, pulling back to see her face.

Was he ever. His pupils were blown wide with lust, and his hair mussed from her head shaking against it. Emma pulled at her restraints, feeling the coarse vines biting against her wrists. She wished her hands were free to touch his dazzling face. This was the best dream she'd ever had, even if she couldn't seem to get quite close enough to him.

But she was _close_. She was breathing so heavily her chest pressed up against him with each breath. His fingers began moving faster, and he moved back in to trail fiery kisses along her neck, eventually bringing his lips up to her ear again.

"You can't get me out of your head," he said. "And I'm going to do to you every indecent little thing that's ever crossed your mind until your voice is hoarse from screaming my name."

The pressure mounted inside her, and Emma cried out as she saw a flash of white blinding her behind her eyelids.

When she opened her eyes again, she was lying on her side in her hammock, grinding her hips against the ratty fabric.

_Holy hell_ , Emma thought, rolling onto her back and bringing a hand to her forehead. She was still breathing heavily as if she were still tied up to that mast, and there weren't any cold showers available on the ship.

What the hell brought that dream on? She'd had some pretty stimulating dreams before in the past but nothing compared to _that_. Never had a dream left her so hungry and unfulfilled when she woke up. She had half a mind to hunt down the man who had played the starring role and make him finish what he started. It was so disappointing that she woke up just as she was getting to the big finale. Or was she disappointed that it really was just a dream?

No, that was a dangerous thought. Bad Emma. The things that they had both said in the dream were too messy, too honest. She'd never be able to admit that kind of stuff to Hook while she was awake. It was better to leave those confessions up in her head where they didn't have consequences.

Emma sat up and climbed out of the hammock, landing on shaky legs. Last night didn't _feel_ like it didn't have consequences, physically or mentally. Her body felt exhausted and worn out, and she felt like she didn't catch a wink of sleep the whole night. She looked over to the port side window, to see light streaming at a much higher angle than was appropriate. She must have slept late into the morning after tossing and turning in her hammock the whole night. Because she definitely didn't get up in the middle of the night and let a certain dashing pirate tie her to the mast and have his way with her…

Was it really just a dream?

Emma shook off her limbs and took a few calming breaths, trying to get her head back into the game. She reached into her pants pocket to find the key to the captain's cabin still in there, so it had to have been a dream. She didn't get wild with Hook last night, all he was to her was—

Something she could worry about later.

First, she had to get up to the main deck and let him out of his cabin like she had promised.

"Finally," Regina said when Emma's head poked above deck. "We've been telling the Captain to keep his pants on all morning while you were getting your beauty rest."

Emma tried very hard to not think about Hook unable to keep his pants on as she murmured out a distracted, "Yeah, sorry." She reached her hand into her pants pocket, the key burning proof into the skin of her palm that last night didn't really happen, as she pulled it out and walked up to the cabin door. Her grip on the key was so tight that her hand trembled as she inserted it into the lock. Emma paused, taking a deep breath, then turned the key to unlock the door, and stepped back into the group of people waiting to see if there was anything different about Hook this morning.

Hook plodded out through the door, looking just as he had the day before, except without a pair of conspicuous black wings. The look of disappointment was written clear on his face.

"Where are the wings I heard so much about?" David asked.

"Gone. Disappeared with the sunrise," Hook replied, looking mournfully out at the horizon. "Had I'd known that I would only have them for one night, I wouldn't have allowed myself to be so easily caged."

"And… do you feel any different?" Mary Margaret asked.

"Same old me, Your Grace," Hook sighed. "Albeit a bit more despondent with the morning."

"Do you think the shadow monster was extinguished by the sunlight?" Mary Margaret asked, turning towards the rest of the group.

"But there was sunlight on the island where the shadow monsters came from," Regina said, shaking her head.

"Either way, it's gone," Hook said. "Or shall I remove my shirt to prove I'm not hiding a pair of enormous wings under my clothes?"

"No," Emma said a little too quickly. She didn't think she could handle a shirtless Hook right now. "We believe you. Now, let's focus on getting everyone home."

As the makeshift crew went about their business, Hook turned and made his way up to the quarterdeck, with Emma following at a distance. Finding Neal at the helm, he crossed his arms and nodded down at the wheel. "I'll have my ship back now, thank you."

Neal took his hands off the wheel in a placating gesture and backed away, letting Hook step in. The Captain looked down at the compass then out at the sky, adjusting the wheel a few degrees.

"I don't know how you can be so formal with sailing but so casual with everything else," Neal said.

"Some areas require better form than others," Hook replied. Neal gave a sort of huffing laugh before heading down to the main deck, patting Emma on the shoulder as he left. Hook looked back at Emma standing by the stairs, noticing she was keeping her distance. "Everything all right there, Swan?" he asked. "Don't tell me _you're_ missing the wings, now."

Emma took a few steps closer, not wanting their conversation to be overheard but not wanting to get too close to him. "Were you in the captain's cabin all night?" she asked.

"Of course. You had the only key."

"You didn't…" Emma said, hesitating, unsure what she even thought she was asking. "Climb out through the window or something?"

"No. I just struggled with my clothes for a bit as they got caught on the wings, then went to sleep," he replied. "Did something happen?"

Emma's eyes drifted down to his hand on the wheel, picturing it sliding back down between her legs so she could discover whether his fingers were as talented in real life as they were in her imagination. He only had one hand. Maybe that meant it was twice as dexterous to compensate. She shook her head, trying to clear the mental imagery.

"Forget about it," she said, walking away and back down to the main deck.

Emma needed to do something to keep her busy and keep her mind off of Hook. Something that didn't involve babysitting the Lost Boys, making small talk with her family, or swabbing the deck where Hook could watch her. For maybe the first time ever, she wished she had some paperwork to file. She ended up heading below deck to settle herself on a barrel in the corner of the galley and peel potatoes with a knife.

She worked deliberately slowly, but she still ended up with way too many potatoes by the time the lunch bell was rung. The work hadn't exactly been draining, but Emma felt worn out after lunch. She fought her tiredness as long as she could, helping Mary Margaret do all the dishes and clean up the galley, until the tiredness seeped into her bones and she couldn't hold off any longer. She snuck off to her hammock not long after, deciding to try to take a nap.

Once she was actually in her hammock however, the thoughts of last night's dream came rushing back in excruciatingly vivid detail. The coarse feeling of the vines wrapped around her wrists, the hard wood of the mast against her back, the sensation of the cool night air against her skin. They were all the kinds of details that her brain usually didn't bother with when she was having a sexy dream, the kinds of details that made it feel more like a memory.

She closed her eyes, trying to will the imagery away and actually fall asleep. But the harder she tried, the more her mind started to wander to the details she had been fighting all day to stay away from. The chill of his hook on the skin between her breasts, the sound of his leather coat as he shifted himself closer to her, the smell of rum on his breath.

Emma huffed and popped her eyes open. She wasn't getting any sleep now, no matter how tired she was. There was no telling if she'd even be able to fall asleep later that night. She sat up and climbed out of the hammock, making her way up to the main deck again to find Henry and David practicing their sword fighting.

"Enjoy your nap, Mom?" Henry asked, lowering his sword to talk to her.

"Yeah, yeah. Hardy har har," Emma said, rolling her eyes.

"Emma, three hours is nothing to sneeze at," David said, putting a hand on his hip. "Are you feeling okay?"

"What?" Emma asked. "I was asleep for three hours?"

"Yeah, don't you feel well rested?" Henry asked her.

"I… didn't even realize I fell asleep at all," she said, suddenly noticing how low the sun was on the horizon. How was that possible? She was still so tired.

"We should probably get her a watch for Christmas," David said to Henry, readying his sword again. "A really nice one, with alarms for naps."

Emma backed off as they sparred, letting her eyes drift up to the quarterdeck. She had slept so long that Hook's shift was over and Neal was back at the helm. That meant that dinner preparations would begin soon. She headed back below deck to see if she could help Regina on dinner duty.

Regina had whipped up a fish and potato stew, since Emma had peeled so many, and left Emma to serving duty. The Lost Boys had finished their second and third helpings by the time the line to be served died down and Hook appeared for his meal.

"It's quite nice having a crew again," Hook said, as Emma ladled some stew into his bowl. "Fending for oneself for every meal takes more time than I'd care to admit."

"Making dinner is a lot easier when you have a microwave handy," she said, falling comfortably into the mundane small talk. She could do this, just be around him without thinking spicy thoughts. She _could_.

Hook sat down on a barrel behind her and sipped at his stew, while Emma poured herself a bowl. "Though I'll admit that when I said you'd make a hell of a pirate, I didn't expect you to take to the galley," he said.

"Hey, I can cook some basic meals if I'm forced to," she replied, leaning back against the table and dipping her spoon into her stew.

"Who's forcing you?" he asked. "It's much more fun climbing up in the rigging, raising and lowering the sails."

"I don't know how to do any of that stuff," Emma said, shooting him a skeptical smile.

"Luckily for you, you have a master sailor on board," he said, holding his hook out in presentation.

"Neal?" Emma asked in mock ignorance.

"Oi, Neal was my student first," he shot back. "I could teach you too, if you'd like."

"Just in case I ever find myself on another pirate ship voyage?" she asked.

"Aye, love. I've found anything's a possibility in Storybrooke," he said, finishing off his stew. "And we've got the time, now that our voyage has been extended, yet I've seen neither hide nor hair of you all day."

"Were you looking for me?" she asked with a knowing smirk, the words slipping out thoughtlessly. Hook's gaze sharpened at her question, his lips parting in consideration, before Emma tried to cover. "Henry couldn't find me earlier, either. I hid out and took a nap in my hammock." Where did that come from? She wasn't supposed to be _flirting_ with him. She brought her bowl to her lips and finished off her stew to hide the blush in her cheeks.

It suddenly dawned on her that she was acting like she actually _had_ said those things to him in the dream last night. Her mind had been tricked into thinking that she had really crossed that line into a more sensual relationship with him. But when she brought the bowl back down and saw him looking cautiously back at her, he clearly still saw someone who was keeping him at arm's length. The things said and done in her dream hadn't happened, and now that she was here with him, the disappointment was piercing.

"A sailor shan't be sleeping on the job, Swan. Naps are reserved for those who had the night shift," he said, before his brow furrowed as he considered the possibility. "You weren't up all night learning to sail without me, were you?" he asked.

"No. I was definitely asleep in my hammock the entire night," Emma said. She put her bowl down on the table, leaving cleanup for someone else who didn't already have galley duty at lunch, before walking off to head to the main deck. Hook was hot at her heels behind her.

The sun had almost dipped below the horizon as they stepped out into the open sky. Emma turned back to Hook to ask him if he would let her steer the Jolly Roger when she stopped dead in her tracks. The huge shadowy wings were slowly fading back into existence behind him with the setting of the sun.

"What the hell?" Emma exclaimed, watching the wings grow darker and more opaque by the second.

"What?" Hook asked, as other people on the main deck rushed up to them at the sight of the wings.

"Your wings!" Mary Margaret said. "They're reappearing!"

Hook looked back to see the wings darkening behind them, and experimentally stretched them out. He turned back to Emma with an excited grin. Emma was startled by the reappearance of the huge wings, but she couldn't help but smile a little at the sight of the fearsome Captain Hook wearing a big goofy grin like a kid in a candy store.

"So... problem not solved then," David said, walking up to the group as he eyed the shadowy wings warily.

"I fail to see how this is a problem," Hook said with a grin. He flapped the massive wings and immediately took to the twilight sky.

They watched him flying around up above the rigging, the sound of his laughter ringing out as he made a circuit around the ship.

"At least someone's having a good time on this trip," Regina said, watching him fly from mast to mast.

"Hook! We need to lock you up again!" Neal called up to him.

"Not on your life!" Hook called back down. He came to a landing up in the crow's nest, perched like a giant bird. "This is my ship, and I'll be captaining her tonight!"

"Maybe we can try to reason with him later when he's less flight happy," Emma suggested, looking up at Hook in the fading light. He seemed to be just stretching his wings up there, enjoying the feel of having them back.

"And what, we just ignore the giant bat monster on top of the ship?" Regina asked, whipping up a fireball in one hand. "Let me fling a fireball at him. I bet it'll clear those wings right up."

"No, wait," Emma said, grabbing Regina's wrist to stop her. "We don't know what that'll do to him."

"So we just wait?" David asked.

"For now," Emma replied. "Until we have more information."

The group dispersed, with Mary Margaret hanging back with her eyes fixed on Hook up in the crow's nest. "I hope you know what you're doing, Emma."

"I usually don't," Emma said. "But I'm pretty good at figuring it out while I go along."

Emma walked away, moving off to the port side of the ship to lean back against the railing and get a better look at Hook against the darkening sky. She probably should have been afraid of the wings the way everyone else was. Hell, she probably should have been afraid of all the seductive things he promised to do to her in her dream. She definitely should have been _terrified_ of what she had said back. But watching Hook leap out of the crow's nest to take to the sky sent her heart racing with excitement instead of fear.

It had been a long time since she had a partner, someone who could read her like a book and read her body just as well. Neal was the last person who could, and now he was back in her life. She should be able to give him a chance, to let him be that person to her again. It would be the best thing for Henry.

But Neal _wasn't_ that person. He had hurt her too much, and they had become too different in the years since. She had turned a page in her book and he wasn't in any of the writing. Neal clearly was aiming for a second chance with her, but Emma didn't owe him one. She could forgive him and let him back into her life, but she didn't have to let him back into her heart. Not if it didn't feel right.

And somehow Hook _did_ feel right. While he was busy flying above their heads to see what those wings could do, Emma was free to just watch him without him catching her doing so, and she couldn't take her eyes off of him. She knew starting something up with him was a bad idea. She had too many other things to worry about without having to deal with guy problems on top of it all. Still, she couldn't deny the way he made her burn under her skin, and even the slight ache in her chest at the sight of him.

Once night had fallen fully and the stars had started to twinkle above them, Hook had settled back in the crow's nest to stretch his wings. Emma decided that was her shot to try climbing up the rigging to see if Hook was ready to talk.

"Emma?" Hook said, turning around when he noticed her on the knotted ropes leading up to the crow's nest.

"I don't know how to get into the crow's nest from here," she said, fumbling around in the rigging. "Do I just—"

"Allow me," Hook said, grabbing Emma's hand and hoisting her up into the crow's nest beside him. He stretched his wings out of the way to make more room for her in the tight space. "I'm not coming down if you're just going to lock me up again," he said once she got her bearings again.

"I'm not going to lock you up again," she said, resting her forearms on the side of the crow's nest and leaning over to look out at the night sky. "But you can't keep those wings forever. Not when we don't know anything about them."

"I know that, Swan," he said, his voice coming out almost as an annoyed groan. "I'm sure as soon as we're back you'll all head to the library and stick your noses in some books while I flit about the town. Then you'll reveal that every time I use them I'm taking a year off of my life or some such rubbish."

"Well..." Emma said carefully, unsure of how he'd take her words. "Magic does always come with a price."

Hook sighed, leaning over on the edge of the crow's nest beside her. "Maybe it's a price worth paying," he grumbled.

"Why are you so attached to a pair of shadowy wings?" she asked him.

"I lost a pair of limbs when these wings went away, Emma," he said, shrugging his shoulders to flex the wings out above them. "Now I've got them back again. How can that be anything but bloody marvelous?"

Emma looked down at his hook where it rested over the edge. Getting a limb back again was something Hook probably wished for a lot, and was something she didn't really know how to relate to. But she could understand why it was important to him, at least.

"I think I get it," she said, before putting her hand on his hook, gripping it tightly. "Just don't let the wings change you."

"Why not?" he asked, turning to lean on one elbow to face her. "Because you like me just the way I am?"

"Because you're not a villain anymore," she said, turning her head to look at him. "Becoming the good guy is hard work. I don't want to see you undo that."

Hook sighed, leaning back on his forearms to look back down over the side of the crow's nest. "I'm no hero, love."

"You sure about that?" Emma asked.

"Well you see," he said, looking sideways at her. He took a deep breath, stretching the wings out, then curling them back inward so that they framed the two of them together on his exhale. Did Hook just pull the yawn and arm over the shoulder trick with a set of wings? "A hero usually gets the girl," he said, with a quirk of his eyebrows.

It was strange how this Hook felt somehow safer than the one in her dream. Her heart was in no less danger, but now, when she was awake, he seemed to be more interested in testing her limits, and less in just taking what he wanted. Up here in the crow's nest, she felt closer to him just talking than she had when he was getting hot and heavy with her against the mast.

"You did get a kiss," she said with a knowing grin.

"And while that kiss certainly added a bit more steam to the humid jungle," he replied, leaning in closer. "Heroes usually get their chance at something more. A happy ending."

Hook was opening the door for her. Emma wasn't sure if she wanted to walk through it just yet, but she knew she didn't want to slam it in his face. She responded with a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Maybe there's hope for you yet, Jones," she said softly, straightening back up. Hook moved his wings out of the way to let her go, before she climbed back over the side of the crow's nest and made her way down the rigging. She refused to look back to see his reaction, betting that it would make her want to climb back up and start a frenzied make out session in the crow's nest.

With her feet firmly back on the main deck, she looked up at Neal at the helm. He was looking right back at her, and had most likely been watching the exchange between her and Hook in the crow's nest. Despite her weary body begging her to just head down below deck and try to get back to sleep, she lifted her chin and marched up to the quarterdeck to give Neal the chance to say whatever it is he so clearly wanted to say.

"I'm not sure how safe it was for you to climb up there," Neal said once she had approached him at the wheel.

"I once had to climb a beanstalk up into the clouds," Emma replied. "I could handle a few ropes above a ship."

"It's not the height I was worried about," he countered. "Can you really trust a guy with shadowy bat wings?"

"I don't know," Emma replied, turning to look back up at Hook in the crow's nest, before offering a one-shouldered shrug. "He hasn't done anything wrong yet."

"And you just want to wait around until he does?" Neal asked.

"Hook's done enough good to have earned the benefit of the doubt."

"What if that's not Hook?"

Emma turned slowly back to Neal at his question. "What?" she asked quietly.

"Two bodies went down over the side of the ship last night and only one came back up," he explained. "And that one had wings."

"He knows things only Hook would know," she argued.

"Oh yeah, like what" he asked, his expression disbelieving.

Emma paused. Things they had said to each other, the kiss they had shared. Things Neal probably didn't want to hear about. "Personal things," she said, leaving it at that.

Neal gave a skeptical nod, choosing his next words carefully. "Maybe that _is_ Hook and he's still more dangerous than you realize."

"Look," Emma sighed. "This macho competitive thing—"

"He's a pirate Emma," Neal cut in.

"As if that explains everything about him?" she asked.

"It explains a lot, yeah!" he shot back. "He may be playing one of the good guys right now, but that's all just an act he puts on for you. Pirates lie, and cheat, and steal, and they will do whatever it takes to get what they want. That's the kind of man you're dealing with."

"That's pretty rich coming from you," Emma said, her voice dropping lower as she crossed her arms. "To say to me, of all people."

Neal at least had the sense to look sheepish, glancing down at the wheel. "I know neither of us are those people anymore," he said, his voice matching her volume. "Maybe Hook's changed, too. I just don't want to see you get hurt, Emma."

She looked back at Neal with mournful eyes. Emma knew she could grow and change and even move on in her new life. But there were some scars that would never heal, some years with Henry she would never get back. "I'm already hurt," she said softly.

Neal's entire body seemed to sag a little, his face looking completely crushed. He opened his mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by the sound of Hook landing on the quarterdeck with a thud.

"I've got the helm tonight," Hook said, approaching the wheel. "I'll take her from here, mate."

Neal gave him a stern look, reluctantly stepping away from the wheel.

Emma rolled her eyes, turning to head back below deck. "Guys," she sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who left a review! It's nice to know I'm not writing into the void. :3


	3. Chapter 3

Emma made her way down to the crew quarters so she could fall into her hammock and finally get this never-ending day over with. When she pulled her hammock open, she found Henry was curled up in it. A bittersweet smile crept onto her face at finding her son asleep in her bed, before she turned around to Henry's hammock next to her own. That one had been taken too by one of the Lost Boys, the smallest one, already sleeping soundly in it. Emma trailed her eyes over to his hammock, then the next one, in a game of musical hammocks until she gave up with a dejected sigh. A couple of the Lost Boys had been preferring to sleep on the floor for their journey home, but apparently tonight they had decided to claim all the hammocks so that there weren't any left for her.

The Jolly Roger was a fast ship but not a large one, so cabin space was limited. She didn't think climbing into one of the empty bunks in the cabin where Neal and Gold were sleeping would be a good idea, and there was no way she was sharing a room with her parents. The last cabin Regina had claimed for herself, so Emma cracked the door to see if she could sneak in the top bunk in there. A loud snore rolled out of the room as soon as she did, and Emma shut the door immediately. Definitely not going to work.

Emma closed her eyes with a sigh and leaned back against the wall of the ship, still exhausted from the vigorous dream she had the night before but with nowhere to sleep. She looked around the floor of the crew quarters, wondering if the hard planks of wood or a sack of potatoes would be more uncomfortable to sleep on.

She lifted her eyes when she realized that there was one more cabin on board the Jolly Roger. With Hook on the quarterdeck all night steering the ship, the captain's cabin would be empty, leaving an empty bed available for her to steal. It was most definitely a bad idea to try to sleep in Hook's bed, but without any other viable options, Emma was too tired to care.

Emma very quietly climbed the ladder to the main deck, peeking her head up above the planks. She didn't want Hook to see her sneaking into his cabin for a boatload of reasons, but from the hatch she could just see the tops of his wings like little mountains above the helm. Crouching low, she hopped up onto the main deck before carefully opening the door to the captain's cabin and stealing away inside.

Apparently Hook had a lock on both sides of the door, so she threw the deadbolt to keep anyone from walking in on her. The last thing Emma needed was Hook deciding to end his shift early and finding her sleeping in his bed. She kicked off her boots, opting to keep her pants on just for her own peace of mind, then climbed into the bunk. It was a lot more comfortable than it looked, definitely much softer than her hammock in the crew quarters, so it was easy for her to stretch out and sigh happily. She felt the exhaustion in her body weighing her down as she closed her eyes, but the sleep wouldn't come. Not with those lingering frustrations she had rolling around in her head.

It didn't help that the bed smelled like Hook. Like leather and spice and the salty sea air, with a hint of rum on the pillow. The memory of his taste when she had kissed him in the jungle flooded her senses, and she tried to force herself to think about anything else. Unfortunately her mind settled on the feeling of his fingers inside her from last night's dream, the sensation feeling every bit as real as the memory of their kiss. She huffed out a sigh, unable to resist imagining Hook naked under the covers with her, trailing his fingers over her body to where she needed them the most.

Emma rolled on her back and let her own fingers drift down her body to follow the path her imagination was taking, between her breasts and down her bare stomach to lower, coming to rest in the wiry curls between her legs. She sighed with relief as she slipped her fingers between her folds, wishing the fingers were Hook's instead. What would he do if he knew she was lying in his bed naked and touching herself, thinking of him?

She opened her eyes as she realized all too late that she didn't remember taking off her clothes. Was she dreaming again?

And as if in answer to her question, the cabin door opened. Emma froze, her hand still buried between her legs. Hook walked in with his wings folded tight behind him, his searing eyes immediately finding her in his bunk. No one else would have dared to come into the captain's cabin, but that didn't stop her from feeling surprise and panic when she realized who it was that entered the room.

"Well, well. What have we here?" he asked her, turning around to shut the door.

"You can't be in here," she said, keeping herself still and hidden under the covers.

"It's my cabin," he replied, turning back to face her and leaning against the door, letting his wings fan out behind him.

"No, I deadbolted the door," she said, shaking her head. "You shouldn't have been able to open it."

Hook lifted his hand, and with one finger, slid the deadbolt shut. "It's locked _now_ ," he said.

Emma swallowed. "Right. You're not real," she said, trying to convince herself more than him.

"Oh, I'm not, am I?" he asked, slowly stalking up to the bed.

"You're supposed to be steering the ship," she said with a determined nod.

He planted his hand and hook on either side of her and leaned over her on the bed, caging her. His large wings spread out above her like a bird of prey.

And she was his meal.

"Eyes down here, love," he said, ghosting his fingers along her jaw to bring her attention back to his face. "I'm the one you want."

"This is another dream," she replied.

"And I keep walking right in," he replied. "You must have quite the appetite for me to invite me into your head night after night."

He grabbed the edge of the blanket and threw the covers aside, revealing her naked body with her hand between her legs. Emma thought she should blush, or look away. She thought she would behave like any rational person would when caught red handed by the person she was lusting over. But just like the last dream, she only felt a heightened sense of arousal. The only thing that seemed to matter to her right now was the satisfaction she hadn't been able to find all day. And since Hook was the one who could give that to her, she wasn't going to shrink back from him now.

Instead, she spread her legs a little wider.

His lips parted in a lascivious grin as he ran his tongue between his teeth. He knew that everything she had to give was just for him.

"Is this where the fun begins, Emma?" he asked. "Shame you started without me."

He put his hand over her own resting between her legs, running his fingers along her digits nestled in her folds. He pressed down on her middle finger, watching Emma's face as it slipped inside.

"These activities are so much more enjoyable when you've got a skilled partner to duel with," he said, flashing his eyebrows. He pushed his own middle finger in beside hers, causing Emma to gasp at the sensation.

"That's it," he purred, drawing out the words encouragingly. "We make quite the team, don't we?" He leaned in and began drawing hot, nipping kisses along her collar bone.

Emma began breathing heavily. The way he was curling his finger against hers to make her touch herself was both exquisite and infuriating. He was playing her like a piano, each movement of his fingers drawing some new sound out of her, but she wanted _him_ inside of her, not her own hand.

"How does it feel, Emma?" He asked, twisting his hand so his thumb could reach around hers and caress her sensitive bud. "To finally find yourself in my bed."

She was really starting to wish this dream version of Hook would stop toying with her and just give her what she had been thinking about all day. "Don't you ever stop talking?" she whined in between heavy pants.

"No, because it _excites_ you," he growled, moving up to bring his lips next to her ear, the huge wings framing the both of them like a privacy curtain. "You want every part of me. My voice in your ear, my breath on your cheek, my lips on your neck." He placed one long sloppy kiss along the column of her throat.

"Among other places," she added.

Hook pulled back so Emma could see the ravenous look on his face, pulling their hands away from her with the motion. She whimpered at the loss of friction, until he locked eyes with her. He brought her hand up and dragged his tongue over her finger to lick up the juices, and holy hell was it the hottest thing she had ever seen. "So delicious," he murmured.

She gasped at the force of the new wave of arousal that hit her, and he took the opportunity to slide his own finger along her parted lips to coat them with her juices. Emma flicked out her tongue experimentally before drawing it back in, not particularly enamored with her own taste in her mouth. Then Hook leaned in to drag his tongue across her lips to claim the rest of the juices he had smeared there, and she just about died.

Emma lifted her head, leaning up to try to kiss him, needing him more than she had ever needed anyone, but he pushed her back down on the bed.

"Impatient for something, love?" he asked, with a wicked grin.

"I'm impatient for you to take off your clothes," she shot back, flopping her hands on the bunk in frustration. Emma screwed her eyes shut and tried to control the dream. She wanted to imagine his clothes away and get him to climb on top of her to get down to business already.

"Ah, ah, love," Hook said, cupping her face and bringing her back to the situation at hand. "You're here with me now, and it's your desire I'm hungry for," he said in a low voice. "I think I'll be having a more thorough taste."

Why did Hook come across as so much more dangerous, so much more predatory in her dreams? Emma was sure the real Hook would be happy to please her the way she wanted, if she ever took him up on it. What was wrong with her brain that she only imagined Hook teasing her mercilessly?

While Emma was lamenting Hook dragging everything out, he had been gliding his hand across the soft skin of her inner thighs, lifting and parting her legs to provide him better access as he kissed a trail down her belly, folding his wings tightly behind his back. His breath ghosted across her mound as he spoke.

"I want to feel you writhing beneath my lips."

He brought his mouth to the juncture between her thighs, kissing the heated flesh there as his icy blue eyes burned into hers. He fiercely held her gaze as he dragged his tongue in one agonizingly slow lick all the way up across her slit, causing Emma to draw in one long shuddering breath. She cried out when flicked his tongue against her delicate nub while bringing his fingers back to caress her folds.

"So wet for me, Emma," he rumbled, his lips moving against her sex. "Have you been wanting this all day?"

"Yes," she breathed out, as he clamped his mouth down around the nub, sucking gently. She could barely speak with what he was doing to her. "Ah— All day long. I could hardly stand to be around you without wanting you inside me. I don't know why— mmpfh… I keep denying myself."

"There's no denying yourself now, love," he said between long strokes of his tongue. "Don't hold back. Give me everything you've got."

He pressed his tongue inside her, pushing in deep and lapping her up. His beard was tickling and stimulating her like crazy and Emma couldn't hold back the moans. She reached her hand down to curl her fingers through his hair, reveling at how silky soft it was. He had begun thrusting his tongue in and out of her, causing Emma to start rocking her hips against his face as she pulled his head tighter against her.

He pulled back slightly, either to deny her again or to make sure she didn't suffocate him between her thighs. "I want to eat you like this every night," he said. "A most delicious midnight snack. Would you like that, Emma?"

"God yes," she sighed. She had never felt more turned on in her life, and could feel herself getting so close to the edge of that cliff.

He worked his tongue inside her for a few more searing moments before swapping it out with his fingers, while bringing his mouth back up to gently nibble on her with his teeth.

Between his hands, tongue, lips, and teeth, Emma felt overwhelmed. It was like there was too much Hook, doing too many things for her to think straight, scattering her thoughts and driving them right out of her head. He curled his fingers up inside her and she cried out in ecstasy, totally beyond reason. There was nothing left in her head to think, only feel.

He stretched his wings out straight up, letting them collide and bend against the ceiling above them. "Come for me, love," he murmured against her. "Coat me with your sweet nectar so I can drink it all up."

She heard his words and her whole body tensed up with a cry, the white hot flashes behind her eyelids blinding her.

She woke up with her hips thrusting up into the air, desperately seeking friction as she was once again denied just on the edge of release. She gasped as her eyes opened wide, before she fell back down into her hammock.

Emma nearly sobbed at the loss. She was right there, right on the edge of having the most searing orgasm possible when it was snatched away from her and she was dumped back in her hammock.

But wait, how did she even get here? She didn't remember going to bed in her hammock either before or after she went to the captain's cabin. When did she start dreaming?

She carefully sat up and dragged her heavy limbs out of the hammock. Of course she felt exhausted again after a frustrating dream like that. But today was even worse than yesterday, and she had already felt bone-tired.

"Are you all right, Emma?" Mary Margaret asked.

"Yeah," Emma said, squinting back at her and David sitting at a nearby table. The crew quarters actually weren't very bright yet, as the light coming in through the windows hinted at a still early morning. But Emma felt like she had one hell of a weird hangover, her body both unsatisfied and spent all at the same time. Maybe she started drinking at some point last night and that's why she had weird gaps in her memory.

"You look like you didn't sleep a wink," David said. "Rough night?"

"Just…" Emma said, hesitating. Obviously she wasn't going to say that she had been having incredibly vivid dreams all night about Hook using her body as a playground, but she needed to tell them something. "Weird dreams."

"You're not cursed, are you?" Mary Margaret asked, only half joking.

Emma huffed out a mirthless laugh. "No flaming rooms," she said, hopping off the hammock fully. At this point she might have actually preferred the flaming room to the torture of her dreams from the past couple nights. "Just one of those dreams where you think you're awake but you're not."

"I've had those dreams before," David offered with a sympathetic smile.

 _Not like this_ , Emma thought.

"I once dreamt that I had woken up and gone through the whole agonizing process of putting on a suit of armor, only to have to do it again when I woke up a few minutes later," he continued.

"At least I'm actually awake now," she joked, before her brow furrowed with concern. "This is real, right?" she asked them.

"Yeah, day two on our fantastic voyage home," Mary Margaret said, her expression both smiling and worried. "Try to take it easy today, Emma."

Emma nodded back, before dragging herself over to the washroom to relieve herself. When washing her hands in the basin she happened to look up at herself in the mirror, then stopped.

_What the hell?_

The circles under her eyes were so dark she looked like a raccoon. The last time she looked like this was when she had to stake out a bail skip for thirty six hours straight without sleep. That was the last time she felt this tired too, come to think of it.

But this situation shouldn't compare. She had full nights of sleep for the past two nights, including a three hour nap the day before. The only thing unusual was the incredibly realistic wet dreams she had been having about Hook, leaving her exhausted and unsatisfied in the morning.

Emma looked down in thought. The dreams started the night Hook got his wings. She thought the sexy dreams started because she had some provocative thoughts about him on the beach, but those wings were there in her dreams each time. That couldn't have been a coincidence, not when none of them knew what kind of weird magic was involved with them in the first place. Maybe Mary Margaret was on to something with the curse idea.

Or maybe…

They weren't dreams after all, and Hook really had been toying with her body all night. It was possible that he really had snuck out of the captain's cabin to tie her to the mast that first night, and was just playing dumb the next morning.

It was definitely a simpler explanation than magic sex dreams, but it didn't explain the weird inconsistencies. That old fashioned nightgown he tore apart, her magically becoming naked, the door to the captain's cabin unlocking itself, and her waking up in her hammock each time. That, and when she had talked to Hook after he got his wings back with the setting sun, he still felt like the same Hook. He didn't act like the wings had changed him. The cruel sex-god version of Hook was one that only really showed up in her head.

She needed to talk to Hook about it. She wasn't sure how she was going to get the information she needed out of him without explaining about his starring role in her vivid sex dreams, so she'd have to be cagey about it.

Emma left the washroom and headed up to the main deck, spotting Hook at the helm in the early morning light, once again without wings. Did he always look that impossibly handsome or was it just the sunrise lighting? She swallowed hard, heading up to the quarterdeck and approaching the steering wheel.

"Where were you last night?" she asked, coming to a stop next to him and putting her hands on her hips in an attempt to project a confidence she most definitely did not feel.

"Gods Emma, you look like fresh hell," he said, his eyes widening as he looked her up and down.

"Good morning to you, too," she nodded. "What time did you go to bed?"

"I didn't," he said. "I've been on deck since I took over for Neal, just as you went down below."

Emma focused on him hard, watching carefully to see if he was lying. "You didn't go into the captain's cabin all night?" she asked slowly.

"Not once," he replied. "I'm not about to leave my post when there's no one else awake to helm the ship."

He was telling the truth. Not only that, but he had a point that he couldn't have gone to the cabin without just letting the ship just sail through the sky uncaptained. Emma knew Hook would tie off the wheel and let the Jolly Roger take care of herself from time to time if he was above deck to keep an eye on things, but he never would have gone indoors without a replacement navigator.

"How…" Emma began, shaking her head in disbelief. It wasn't even possible that he could have been doing those things to her and not remembering, not unless he could be in two places at once.

"Emma, what's going on?" Hook asked, his brow crinkling in concern at her questions.

"Nothing," she muttered, sighing and turning to leave.

"No, not nothing, he argued, grabbing hold of her bicep with his hook so she couldn't escape. "Something's clearly wrong with you. Tell me what it is."

Emma looked back at him, trying to school her features into a neutral mask so she wouldn't give anything away. She fought to keep her eyes from dropping to his lips, from imagining them blazing a trail along her body. She really needed to get away from Hook. Right now.

"I have to figure that out myself, first," she said, shaking her head and looking at anything but him. "Do you have any info on Neverland?"

"Loads of it, love," he said, releasing her arm. "I sailed those seas for the better part of two centuries."

"I mean books," she said, "Or maps."

"Aye, in my cabin," he replied with a nod. "What are you after?"

She could answer that. Sort of. "I want to know what those things were that we found on that floating island," she said.

"Your guess is as good as mine," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "I assumed they were shadows, like our reliable main sail up there."

Emma turned and looked up at the sail, grateful to have something to direct her attention to aside from Hook. "But Pan's shadow didn't need wings to fly," she pointed out.

"So this is about my wings again," Hook groaned while lolling his head back in frustration. "Why is everyone so concerned about the bloody things? They don't even show up in the daytime."

"I just…" Emma said carefully. Every little movement he made was reminding her of the unspeakable things she wanted to do to him. "Need more information is all."

"And my wings are what's keeping you up at night?" he asked, giving her a skeptical look.

How did she answer that one? She settled on, "Maybe."

Hook sighed before his attention was directed somewhere over her shoulder. Emma looked back to see Neal coming on deck for his shift. "You don't want to talk about it, fine," Hook said. "I'm due for a bit of shut eye anyway. She's all yours mate," he said to Neal, before heading towards the stairs.

"Emma, can we—" Neal began as he took the wheel.

"Not now," she interrupted, chasing after Hook down the stairs. She didn't have room for Neal next to all the other thoughts rolling around in her head right now.

"You're going to your cabin?" Emma asked, running up in front of Hook to stop him.

"That _is_ where my bed is."

"But I need to get the books out of there," she argued.

"So you can get them while I take off my boots," he offered, stepping around her to get to the cabin door.

Her being alone in a bedroom with Hook right now was the bad idea of the century. There was nothing stopping her from just pushing him down onto the bed and mounting him like an animal in heat. "I'll just… get them later," she said.

"As you wish," he said stoically, walking into the cabin and closing the door behind him.

Emma slunk back down below deck, needing to get away from everyone and figure out what she was going to do with herself for the hours until Hook woke up. She wanted to go back to sleep, but that would either lead to more exhausting dreams or fruitless napping that wouldn't make her feel rested. And she couldn't deal with anyone else right now. Not when she felt too exhausted, unfulfilled, and frustrated at the lack of answers. As she wandered into the crew quarters unable to think of anything she should be doing other than jumping into Hook's bunk with him still in it, she decided she should probably do something about the unfulfilled part at least.

She picked a cabin at random, making sure no one was in there before slinking in and locking the door behind her. She leaned back against the door, screwed her eyes shut tight, and thrust her hand down into her underwear to take care of herself. She couldn't help it if thoughts of Hook crept in while she did the job. It was all too easy to imagine his body pressing her up against the door, his hand rubbing his thumb over her breast, his lips smothering her mouth in hot, hungry kisses. But most of all, she reveled in the thought of _him_ , not his fingers or his lips, but his arousal, thick and ready, buried deep inside her. In this fantasy version of Hook, he most definitely did not have a pair of shadowy black wings on his back.

She brought herself to release with a silent cry, the picture of Hook in her mind and his name on the edge of her tongue. Why couldn't she get the more vivid depiction of Hook in her dreams to give her that kind of treatment? She slowed her frenzied breathing, relieved to have finally burned off some of the tension that had been building in her for the past few days. She pulled her hand out of her pants and opened her eyes, letting herself look around the cabin. Apparently the cabin she had snuck into belonged to her parents. Emma was now officially the most depraved daughter in the universe.

A forlorn sigh escaped Emma as she made her way to the washroom to clean up. At least her session of self-love had helped her head feel a little clearer now that she wasn't going mad with thoughts of Hook. Her tension was also less extreme, so she might be able to actually talk to other people now. But she was definitely still exhausted, and that put a limit on things she could do.

She passed the hours in the various ways she had the day before, by trying to keep busy and keeping her mind off of sex. She let Henry show her some sword fighting moves for an hour, displaying legitimate improvement from day to day that had Emma honestly impressed and clapping.

After that, she helped Mary Margaret tell stories to the Lost Boys. Mary Margaret told fantastic fairy tales and fables of incredible curses, while Emma mostly stuck to stories about the more elaborate bail skips she had to hunt down.

She even got Regina to give her some magic tips. They mostly involved belittling Emma for not being a quicker learner and pissing her off until her hands exploded in tiny little flames, but progress was progress.

All the while she kept busy, trying to stay out on the main deck so she could watch for Hook emerging from his cabin. She also made sure to keep away from the quarterdeck where Neal was stationed.

Because she was just not ready to talk to Neal until she could sort the craziness in her head out. She wasn't sure she'd be ready to talk to him until she got back to Storybrooke and got some space to herself off of the Jolly Roger. Neal probably wouldn't appreciate the, "it's not you, it's me" conversation while stuck with her on the ship either. Emma didn't know what she was going to do about Hook, or if falling into his bed was inevitable at this point, but she was damned sure by now that she just wasn't going to get back together with Neal, plain and simple.

It was late afternoon by the time Hook woke up and came out of his cabin. Emma tried to make herself as inconspicuous as possible at the bow of the ship to avoid his gaze, but she could feel his eyes on her as he made his way down to the lower decks. Even after she had taken care of herself earlier in the day, his pointed looks still sent a shiver down her spine.

As soon as he was out of sight Emma ducked into the captain's cabin and headed straight to the book shelf. The contents of the shelf were mostly comprised of atlases and star charts, some reference books of anatomy, and some maritime biographies, but there were a few volumes that might have had something useful to her. She grabbed _Beasts of the Sea and Sky_ , _Mysteries of the Realms_ , and finally a leather bound tome on Neverland, spreading the books out on the table to sit down and start flipping through them.

The books were pretty dense, and Emma's focus just wasn't what she needed it to be as her mind kept drifting back to her dreams about Hook. A few hours had already passed by the time she had skimmed through the first two books and half of _Mysteries of the Realms_. The reading was exhausting work, and she had to stand up and stretch her back out as the exhaustion really started to weigh back in on her.

"Keep it together, Swan," she mumbled, slapping her cheeks with her hands in an attempt to sharpen her concentration. She looked out the window, noticing the sun was low on the horizon. She didn't have long until it was bedtime and she was back in dreamland, at the mercy of her imaginary Captain.

She attacked _Mysteries of the Realms_ with renewed fervor, leaning over the table in a standing position to keep herself from getting too comfortable. Just a few pages later she stumbled across a picture of a humanoid shadow with enormous bat wings stretching out behind it.

"Bingo," Emma said, her eyes lighting up at the picture of the exact creature she had been looking for. Her eyes darted down to the caption to see what it was called.

_Fig. 1A. Incubus._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got most of my knowledge about tall ships from the video game Return of the Obra Dinn, which features a much bigger ship than the Jolly Roger. Apologies for any wonky ship stuff.


	4. Chapter 4

"An incubus," Emma said, reading the text. She had heard of a succubus demon before, and vaguely recalled an incubus being kind of the same thing, but she didn't know much about them. Outside of one overtly religious foster family that was obsessed with fire and brimstone, she never really gave any thought to demonology. But even with her incredibly light knowledge of the material, she was pretty sure sex was involved.

Emma looked from the illustration over to the blurb on the monster just as the door to the cabin opened behind her. Emma looked back to find Hook standing in the doorway, a questioning quirk to his brow, and still no wings.

"Have you made any progress in your research or are you still avoiding me?" he asked.

Emma chose to ignore the second part of the question and beckoned him over to the book. "I think I got it," she said. "Come take a look."

"What've you found, love?" he asked, stepping up beside her to look down at the page.

"Look at this picture," she said, pointing to the illustration of the incubus. "It looks just like those shadow monsters with the wings." She bent over the book to read aloud the tiny print description. " _An incubus is a night demon that has the ability to possess a human host._ "

"An incubus?" Hook said, clearly surprised. "But I haven't been having any strange dreams."

"That's because it's not after you. Listen. _Once it has possessed someone, it will take on the thoughts and memories of the host to target another human to feed off of_ ," Emma continued to read. " _The incubus will then manipulate the dreams of that target with..._ "

Emma cleared her throat, wondering if she could leave out the sordid details. "Blah, blah, blah... _Draining the target's life force over the course of several days. Once the incubus has picked a target, they can't waver until they've drained the life force of the target entirely, or they'll starve_."

"I think you might be skipping a few bits there, love," Hook said, stepping back from the book and pacing the cabin. "I've heard of incubi and I know they feed on sex."

"It... might say something about the erotic nature of the dreams and the life force being drained in a carnal nature."

"Emma," Hook said, a note of warning in his voice. "Why are you so certain that the wings are from an incubus?" he asked. "Do you know something I don't?"

If it was possible Emma actually buried her nose even further in the book to hide the hot blush she could feel creeping onto her cheeks. "I... might have been having some racier dreams lately." There was quiet for a tense moment that she tried not to read too much into, before she heard his boots slowly walking up behind her.

"I think racy is putting it mildly," Hook said, his voice dropping to a lower register. His arms snaked their way around her waist, just as the black wings stretched out into Emma's peripheral vision on either side of her.

Emma stood up straight and twisted back to look at him. His face had taken on that hungry expression and the wings were back out. This was the dangerous Hook. This was the incubus.

She looked out to the window behind him. The sun had just set. "No, I'm awake," Emma said, shaking her head. "You can't be here."

"The more you let me in, the more power I have over you," he said, curling his wings to envelop them both. He slipped his hand under her shirt and trailed it up to caress her breast through her sports bra as he spoke.

Emma knew she should be smacking his hands off of her and jumping out of his grasp, but what he said about his power over her must have been true. Not only was she unable to take his hands off of her body, but she found herself arching into his touch, aching to have him explore her further.

"I made you fall asleep the instant the sun went down," Hook continued. "Don't worry, I'll have you sleep walk back to your hammock once I'm done with you."

"What about the real Hook?" Emma asked.

"I _am_ the real Hook," he replied, slipping his hand underneath the bra and rolling her nipple between his fingers, teasing a moan out of her.

"You're not Killian," she said, dropping her head back onto his shoulder. "You're a demon."

"Half right, love," he said, pulling his hand back out from underneath her shirt and stretching his wings back behind him. He pushed gently against her back to bend her over on the desk, and Emma had no choice but to place her hands out on the desk in front of her for support. She felt a boot slide between her feet and spread her legs apart.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" she asked, involuntarily arching her ass up at him.

"You're right, I am a demon," he said, stepping up close behind her. "But I'm also Hook. Since I've possessed your sweet Captain, his personality, his proclivities, his desires..." He rolled his hips against her and she felt something hard pressing insistently against her backside, sending a stab of desire lancing though her. "They become my own."

"And, oh how he desires you," he said, leaning over to growl those words in her ear before straightening back up again. "Obviously you had to be the first choice for whose dreams to invade after I saw the things he had planned for you."

"So these sexual dreams I've been having..." Emma said, looking down at her body. Her clothes had changed again, and this time she had been put into a short little skirt. "That was just me becoming your meal?"

"And what an absolutely delicious meal you've been," he replied. "Your yearning for your Captain has made you so enticing. All that raw... sexual... tension..." he said, flapping his wings and grinding his hips against her to accentuate each word with a slow thrust. "Is just laying there untapped for me to feed on."

"Those thoughts aren't meant for you," she ground out.

"Well they were certainly ripe for the taking," he said. He dragged his hand up her bare thigh and under her skirt, drawing out a shuddering gasp from her as he caressed her slit over the thin fabric of her underwear. "I don't know what it is that's stopping you from taking what you want, love, but it's given me quite the feast."

"I want you out of my head," she demanded.

"No, you don't," he argued, pulling her underwear down. "You've been dreaming about this long before I possessed your Captain." Emma moaned as he slipped his fingers into her already soaking folds. "By taking the reflections of his heart and bringing them into the desires in your head, I've simply made your fantasies real."

"You mean Hook and I have actually…" she gasped out.

"No, I was locked in the cabin for the entirety of that first night, after all. But I don't need to lay a finger on you to invade your head when you sleep," he said, using his thumb to press little circles against her sensitive bud while his fingers moved in and out of her. "Everything in these dreams is something that you want, that he's all too willing to give you. And when I steal away back to the Captain after I'm done with you, I consume those memories so he can't have them." Hook pulled his hand back away from her, making her whine at the loss.

He shifted himself behind her, and Emma thought she heard him unlacing his pants. She felt the hard length of him slip between her thighs and nestle up against her sex, coating himself in her juices. A sigh of relief escaped her mouth, leaving her hoping that she was finally going to get him inside of her after all this torture, but hating that it was the only thing she cared about now. There was a demon inhabiting Hook's body, but everything about him was still _Hook_. In these sex-fueled fantasies she couldn't stop wanting him in both mind and body, and she responded to him with gusto.

"Why can't I fight back?" she whimpered, already knowing the answer as he rubbed himself against her.

"Because you don't want to. You're under my thrall now, addicted to this pleasure," he said, reaching his hand back around to play with her again. "After tonight, I just need one more feed to drain you completely."

"Will I die?" she asked.

"I'm afraid so," he replied. "It's a shame, I've never eaten so well."

"I'll stop you," Emma said. "I'll wear a chastity belt or something."

Hook chuckled darkly and the sound sent another thrill of desire racing through her. "I'm not after your virtue, love," he replied, pushing her legs back together and thrusting his arousal slowly between her thighs and her sex. "It's your own irrepressible thoughts and desires that are feeding me. I'm just giving you what you want."

"This isn't what I want," she said, unsure if she was talking about death by sex or his refusal to just screw her brains out already.

"Well I have to save the best for last, don't I?" he asked, bending over her to nip at the base of her neck. "I can't wait to finish you off for good, to taste your life-ending climax. How shall I do it, I wonder? You have so many _delicious_ thoughts for me to choose from."

"Will I take you from behind against the wheel of the ship?" he asked. As he said the words the world around them quickly shimmered and faded until that was exactly where they were, with Emma grabbing on to the wheel as she gasped in pleasure.

"Maybe I'll have you ride me up in the crows nest," he suggested, and then suddenly they were there now instead, both completely naked, as she sat in his lap and ground against his erection.

"Or maybe we'll end it in the sky," he added. "So you know that it's only through me that you can achieve such shattering ecstasy." Emma found the two of them soaring through the starry night sky, her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms clinging tightly to his back. He held her in an iron grip, sucking at her neck with his hand fondling her ass. She should have been terrified of this most of all, the wind whipping against her skin as his wings flapped with powerful thrusts above them. But even up here, all she could think about was the evidence of his arousal pressed firmly up against her and just how the hell he was going to maneuver it inside of her while flying.

"It'll be lady's choice," he said, bringing them back to the captain's cabin, Emma still bent over the desk with his fingers buried deep inside her as he relentlessly teased and played with her from behind. "It's not such a bad way to go is it?"

Emma was so overwhelmed with sensation it had left her breathless. Each scene change had been more exciting than the last, and she was reaching her limit. "I don't want to go at all," she said between breaths.

"We all have to go some time," he replied, dragging his hook down her back, tearing open her shirt in the process. "Might as well do it writhing in ecstasy under the one you love."

"I don't love you," she argued.

"Oh, but you love what I do to you," he purred as he kissed the skin of her back. "If you really wanted to stop me, Emma, you could. But your desires are too strong, your wanton hunger for what only I can give you is overwhelming even your survival instinct. Tell me you don't want this."

"I... I can't," she answered. All the logic and reason in her head had gone out the window, and all that mattered was getting Hook between her legs. She wanted him so bad she was willing to suffer for it.

"No... because you belong to _me_ now. You've given yourself over to me and I'm going to drink you up until not a drop remains," he said, pressing against her harder, more insistently as the motions of his fingers inside her sped up. "Are you prepared for that Emma? Are you excited for a finale so powerful it will bring you straight to oblivion?"

"No..." she whimpered.

" _Yes_..." he countered, long and slow, stretching his wings out low to the ground. "You want me inside you more than life itself. You _need_ me, Emma. Admit it." He leaned over her and wrapped his arms tighter, pressing his body so close to hers there wasn't an inch of space between them.

"Yes," she gasped out, the pressure inside her building to unbearable levels. "I need you inside me."

"I'm going to bury myself so deep inside you that you won't know where I end and you begin. You'll be filled up so completely you won't be able to think of anything but me," he rasped, his teeth scraping against her ear. "And when your delicious walls shudder and squeeze around me to bring me to my release, there will be nothing left of you that isn't mine."

His filthy words were both a promise and a threat, and they sent Emma over the edge. Just as she had every time before, as soon as she started to feel her release she saw a flash of white behind her eyelids, and woke up back in her hammock, squeezing her thighs tightly together and breathing heavily.

Emma lifted a shaky hand to wipe the sweat off her brow, finding her energy so depleted that even that simple action exhausted her.

A freaking demon had been feeding off of her every night for three nights and she had just let it happen. Worse, she had enjoyed it, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. As long as she still wanted Hook she wasn't going to be able to keep the incubus out of her head.

And it was going to kill her.

She looked over to her right to see Henry sitting up reading a book on his hammock beside her own. Emma managed to kick her legs over the side of her hammock, then struggled to sit herself up, before deciding she couldn't do it alone.

"Henry," she called, her voice cracking and her throat dry. "Can you help me up?"

"Mom?" he said, his eyes going wide as he turned to her and jumped out of his hammock. "You don't look so good."

"Like a raccoon, right?" she asked, letting him heft her down out of the hammock.

"No, you're just," he said, letting her get her feet flat on the ground and holding a hand on her arm to steady her. "Really pale."

"I, uh," she said, trying to think of an explanation that didn't involve a sex demon using Hook to drain her life force through wet dreams. "I think I ate some bad mackerel," she said. "Help me to the washroom so I can yak, then I'll feel better."

Emma had gotten so drained that she could barely walk, and had to put an arm over Henry's shoulder and use him for support. Luckily the washroom was close enough that no one but Henry saw her in her weakened state, and she made it through the door without anyone else worrying over her condition. Though Henry had wanted to wait outside the door for her, Emma shooed him away, saying she didn't want him to hear her throw up. She caught a glance of herself in the mirror as she leaned back against the wall, confirming that she was as pale as a ghost.

Once she was sure she was alone she slipped her fingers down her pants and took care of herself, unable to chase the thoughts of Hook away. When she was done and cleaned up, she still felt tired and feverish, but she had gotten some of her color back and was able to walk on her own. She wouldn't survive the night, that was for sure.

As she left the washroom, she was suddenly struck by the ridiculousness of the situation. She was actually going to die if she had one more wet dream.

About Hook.

What does someone put on the obituary for that?

She had to figure something out. She couldn't just let this thing consume her. And as embarrassing as it was, she was pretty sure the man himself was the only one who could help her. All along she had been thinking of her complicated feelings towards him as her Hook problem, putting off really examining the delicate nature of their relationship for another day. Maybe it was time she started letting him be a part of the solution.

The problem was, if she was going to tell him about this issue, she would need to do it in private, or else all the Lost Boys would get an earful of all the naughty dreams she'd been having. No, she definitely preferred to keep that dirty laundry unaired.

But then that meant she would be alone with Hook, probably in his cabin. Would she be able to stop herself from just pouncing on him and forgetting about why she needed to talk to him in the first place? Would that burn off more steam than her little self-love sessions have? Would it really be so bad to ignore the demon devouring her and just go to town on Hook?

Yeah, that would be pretty bad.

She may have been sexually starved and a little mad with lust, but this was still the real world. It wasn't like in her dreams where the sensations between her legs were the only things that mattered. She had a functioning brain when she was fully awake.

And yes, she also had the hots for Hook. But more importantly she had priorities. Priority number one was to clue him in and not die.

It didn't take long to find him, sitting up on the main deck and coiling up a length of rope as part of his morning duties. He blanched when he saw her approach him. Emma knew she didn't exactly look as fresh as a daisy.

"We need to talk," she said, keeping her voice stern and her arms crossed. Maybe if she acted like she wanted to keep him at a distance she could actually pull it off. "Alone."

"You ready to tell me now why you look like walking death?" he asked, standing up and walking closer.

"Yes, but not here," she answered, leading him into the captain's cabin. She walked in and put her fingers on the table, the memory of her bent over the surface with Hook pressed up behind her much too fresh. She shook her head, reminding herself that it wasn't real, and tried to focus.

"Before sunset yesterday," she began, turning around to question him. "You came in here while I was going over your books, right?"

"Yes," he said slowly, clearly concerned that he needed to confirm what had happened only a few hours ago. "You had told me that you found an incubus in the book and that its wings looked like mine. When I questioned your conclusion, told me you didn't want to discuss it anymore, and walked out."

"And you just let me leave?" she asked.

Realization dawned on his features before he looked sheepish. "You told me not to follow you. I didn't realize you were playing some sort of game with me."

"I wasn't," she said, brushing her hand through her hair in frustration. "I was sleepwalking."

"Sleepwalking," he repeated, narrowing his eyes skeptically. "When did you fall asleep?"

"Almost as soon as you came in the room," she said. "Right around sunset."

"So when you wandered off muttering my name, that was…" Hook said, trailing off before breaking out into a salacious grin. "Were you dreaming about me, love?"

"Yes," she said. She wasn't going to get anywhere by dancing around the issue any longer.

Hook's brows shot up in surprise at her admission. "Pleasant dreams, I hope?"

"They were incredibly erotic," she replied matter-of-factly, before pointing at him. "I think you got an incubus stuck in there when you went over the edge of the ship, and it's been using you to sex me up in my dreams every night since."

He squinted back at her, clearly needing a moment to process what she had just said. "Your dreams have been sexual fantasies?" he repeated.

"Yes."

"For the last three nights?"

"Yes."

"About me?"

"Yes."

His jaw dropped and he froze for a good five seconds. "Hold on," he said, putting his hand up and lowering his head in concentration.

"Ugh. Hook!" Emma cried, throwing her arms out to the side. She just needed to spell it all out as clearly as possible, no mincing words. "I know that the shadow monster you fought was a night demon called an incubus. I found a picture of it in the book. You gained its wings when it possessed you. Once it had absorbed all your thoughts and desires it targeted me and brought your personality with it into my dreams. Then it started using _my_ thoughts and desires to live out my fantasies with a mental copy of you every night. You don't remember any of those dreams when the incubus returns back to you because it consumes them."

"So you're telling me we've been magically making love in your head every night and I've been missing out?" he asked, incredulous.

"It's not strictly love making" she said, glancing away.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You've done everything _except_ have sex with me," she explained. "I think the incubus has been trying to make me more sexually frustrated."

Hook made a choked sound as he stared back at her, dumbfounded. Eventually it all seemed to sink in, and he threw back his head and ran his hand through his hair. "Augh, Swan," he growled in frustration. The sound sent a little electric jolt streaking down her throat and striking low in her belly. "Are you sure these aren't just... regular naughty dreams?" he asked, putting his arms up in a shrug. "Maybe you've finally succumbed to my charm and devilishly handsome looks."

"That's what I thought at first, too," she said. She looked down, her embarrassment over the situation was really starting to catch up to her. "And why I didn't tell you about them. But last night the incubus admitted he's been bringing you into my dreams to feed off of me. I know for a fact that's what it is. The next time I go to sleep, I'm dead."

"Bloody hell," he muttered, rubbing his jaw with his hand. "So how do we stop it?"

"I... never got that far in the book before the incubus got a hold of me," she said, turning and making her way back to the bookshelf to grab _Mysteries of the Realms_. She dropped the book down on the table and flipped through the pages.

"Wait, when you fell asleep suddenly last night, that was because the incubus got you?" Hook asked.

"Yeah," Emma said with a nod as she tried to find the page with the incubus on it. "I'm in its thrall, I guess."

"So it can get to you even when I'm awake," he said.

"Yeah, it's like it's mentally jumping from you to me or something like that," she said, not entirely sure how a magic sex demon was supposed to work. "But I only ever see it when you have the wings. I think it's powerless during the day when the wings are gone."

"So sleep during the day!" Hook reasoned. "You can have my bunk so you'll not be disturbed!"

"I tried napping the day after the first dream," Emma said, rolling her eyes at him. "It was like I hadn't slept at all. Being its target is like being cursed. I'm not going to get any rest until we get rid of this thing." She finally found the page on the incubus, and pointed to the picture. "This is it," she said.

Hook moved to stand beside her to read over her shoulder. Emma was cursed by an incubus, possibly dying, and really needed to use every second of daylight she had left to find a solution to this problem. But when Hook, the _real_ Hook, stood so close to her that she could feel the heat from his body by her side, the words on the page turned into a jumble before her eyes, and her mind went blank.

And Hook had no idea what kind of effect he had on her.

"Which part, love?" he asked, prompting her to get back to the task at hand.

"Uh, here it is," she said, clearing her throat before finding the right passage and reading aloud. " _An incubus can be defeated through light or fire magic once separated from its host. If it is currently possessing a host, it can be removed through an exorcism. If it is feeding off of a target's dreams, simply removing the targeted individual from the presence of the incubus will cause the demon to starve._ "

"Well that's not going to work," he said, reaching around her and running his fingers along the passage to confirm that there wasn't anything more that they had skipped over.

"Yeah, I can't get away from it while I'm trapped on a ship," Emma said, forcing herself to keep her focus on the book. She was pretty sure if she looked back up at Hook it'd be all over. "Do you know how to do an exorcism?"

"Not bloody likely."

"I don't think we have any priests on board," Emma said with a sigh. "Maybe we can wait until nightfall and try to burn the wings off of you?"

"The demon can make you fall asleep as soon as it emerges when the sun sets," he said. "If we can't take care of this thing before night falls we might not get a chance to burn it away before it puts you to sleep."

"What else can we do?" Emma asked hopelessly, looking back up at him. He was so close. All she had to do was—

"It says here that the demon feeds off of sexual energy," he said, tapping his finger on the page. "Maybe we can drain the source of sexual energy so there's nothing left for it to feed on come nightfall."

"No, I've already tried that," Emma said, lowering her eyes and shaking her head. "Taking care of myself gets me a little bit of energy back but not much." When she looked back up at Hook she was almost taken aback by the intense expression he wore.

"I'm sure that you can… take care of yourself well enough to stave off the beast for a little while," he began, clearly choosing his words carefully. "But if you're looking to starve the demon, so to speak, you'll need to make yourself so completely and utterly sated that you couldn't even dream of going another round. To do that," he said, taking a step closer. "You might want a helping hand."

Emma's lips parted as she realized what he was suggesting. "Are you volunteering?" she asked.

Hook lowered his chin and glanced away. "With the demon possessing me it might be drawing strength from my own sexual appetite as well," he suggested, before lifting his eyes to look up at her through his lashes. "Safest thing is likely to sate our desires together."

"How do we know that won't just make the incubus stronger?" Emma asked. There was a part of her that was telling her to shut the hell up and jump him already, but something buried deep, deep down was holding her in place.

"I'm not the demon, love," Hook said, taking another step closer. "If it's targeting you because of my attraction to you, and draining your energy through your attraction to me, then we should act on our attraction to each other and tell this demon to butt out."

"But just sleeping with each other isn't going to make our mutual attraction go away," she replied.

"Glad to hear that, love," he said. Hook smiled at her and Emma felt her heart practically leap into her throat. "But you said you hadn't been made love to in your dreams and I think there's something to that. I think if we combat sexual frustration with real intimacy, then we've got ourselves a fight."

Emma swallowed. There it was. The reason that she was fighting this despite wanting it with every cell in her body. _Intimacy_.

She wasn't sure she even knew how to be really intimate with someone anymore. What had happened with Neal had destroyed her ability to trust so completely that she never really recovered. The only way she was able to build herself back up again was to build walls around her heart, and no one had ever come close to tearing those walls down.

That is, until she met Hook.

When they climbed that beanstalk together it was as if he had drilled a little hole through that wall and was able to peek right into the heart buried inside, letting her understand things about him in return. It was almost uncanny how everything about them just worked. It terrified her so much that she ended up chaining him up at the top of the beanstalk to run away from it, and she had been running ever since.

She had let him get close enough in Neverland that she had thought kissing him wouldn't have been a bad idea, but it just lit a fire inside her that had yet to go out. Even here on the Jolly Roger she had started to consider that maybe that fire wasn't such a bad thing, if it could be just about sating desires and had nothing to do with tearing down walls or building deep and meaningful connections.

She never expected it to include intimacy. Just the thought of it made her want to run out of the room and take her chances with the demon.

"I'm not so good with intimacy," she said, looking up at him nervously.

"But _I_ am," he said, taking her hand. He brought it up to his mouth to brush his lips against her knuckles. She might have actually melted if she didn't feel like such a knotted up bundle of nerves. "Let me take care of you, Emma. Let me save your life."

"I don't know if I can," she whispered earnestly. Even with her life at risk, bringing those walls down felt close to impossible. "The last time we had a Hook-Swan partnership I clapped you in irons."

"Then we won't be Hook and Swan," he reasoned, bringing his forehead down to rest against hers. "We'll be Killian and Emma. Just two people with no past, enjoying each other's company. _Thoroughly_."

She nodded carefully against him, swallowing thickly. "But we won't be the same after this," she said.

"No," he said, his voice already growing husky. "We'll be better."

Then he dropped his lips down to hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda made up my own rules for the incubus here, since it works nothing like that in most folklore. Stay tuned for the final chapter!


	5. Chapter 5

Hook kissed her gently, caressing his lips against hers to coax Emma to respond. She didn't make him wait long. As soon as Hook's lips touched hers, Emma felt electrified. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned into him, drinking him in.

He was right about this, about shutting out the demon by teaming up. They always did make a great team. She felt it in the way her body sprang to life under his, like she all of a sudden hadn't been going for three days straight without sleep. When she was in Hook's arms with his lips moving so sensually against her own, his hand gently caressing her cheek, his hook tucked into the small of her back... She didn't feel like she was going to die tonight anymore, she felt alive.

No, not Hook. _Killian_.

"Killian…" she whispered, wanting to say his name aloud. They were only kissing and already this felt more intense than the things they did in her dreams. She pulled back, resting her forehead against his again.

"What's wrong, love?" he asked.

"It's just that you—" she said, stopping to correct herself. "The demon never kissed me. He always went straight for the prize, if you know what I mean."

"That's because the demon and I are interested in very different things," he said, leaning back in to claim her lips once more.

That was putting it mildly. In her dreams about Hook she always ended up feeling teased, used, and unsatisfied. Here, in the real world, Killian made her feel treasured, with the way his hand framed her face as he kissed her. He had started kissing her more fervently than before, tilting his head, finding new angles to show her the passion she stirred in him. Every move that he made reminded her that this was no dream.

This time Killian was the one to pull back. "Shall we go to bed?" He asked, his blue eyes burning into hers with an intensity so fierce it almost scared her. She'd had a demon tie her to the mast and play her body like a flute but it was the emotions in Killian's eyes that made her nervous.

Emma was at a loss for words. Even though she had been plenty up close and personal with him in her dreams for three nights now, it was hard to shake the feeling that this one mattered. She felt the urge to get out of there right now and put as much distance as she could between her and Killian, no matter how badly she wanted this.

But she knew she couldn't give in to that urge with her life on the line, and forced herself to stay put. It's not like this was her first rodeo. It was just sex. She had done this plenty of times before. She just needed to bury that jittery flight instinct that was coiling in her gut and do the deed already.

Emma nodded wordlessly at Killian, trying to come back to the present and not stay lost up in her head. He stared back at her for a long moment, searching her face, before his lips widened into a grin.

He swept her up into his arms over the threshold style and carried her to his bunk. "Now we may be doing this to save your life, but I have every intention of making sure you enjoy yourself, Emma," he said, placing her down on the bed and pulling off her boots. "So I won't be having any of these unsure glances cast my way." He brought his lips down to hers and kissed her breathless, sweeping his tongue into her mouth to let it entwine and dance with her own. He threaded his fingers through her hair, before leaning back again to kick his own boots off and climb in the bed beside her.

"You ensnared me nearly the moment I met you," he began, unclasping his vest and pulling it down his shoulders. "I apparently ensnared you somewhere along the way. Wish you would have clued me in sooner on that one, love," he added as an aside. "Might as well make the most of it, and relish in our mutual captivity," he finished with a smile.

And that smile was. Just. Devastating. How could she even think of running away from him?

This definitely wasn't going to be just sex. Killian wasn't just after her body like the incubus was. He wouldn't be satisfied until he had her heart. The crazy thing was, the demon had said the same thing about her, that she wanted _all_ of Killian. She was starting to think the damn thing was right. It had been in both their heads after all. It had seen what they both wanted, what they both felt.

Maybe letting those walls down didn't have to be that hard after all. It almost seemed like Killian had already made it to the other side by sneaking through that little hole in the wall and cozying himself up to her heart. All Emma had to do was give in and embrace him. Easily done, with him already in her arms.

Killian kissed her again, helping her to pull her shirt off before pulling off his own. Emma's eyes drew down to his chest, before she was taken aback by the sheer amount of scars he had. She brought a hand to his shoulder, tracing the path of one long scar down his chest, making him go still.

"I didn't know you were so…" Emma said, trailing off when she realized he had stopped smiling.

"Damaged?" he finished for her, taking off his hook and setting it down on the ground beside the bunk.

"I was going to say scarred," she said.

"I've lived a long life. A pirate's life," he explained, looking down at his own chest. "And while I may be a survivor, I'm not invincible."

Emma watched his face as he spoke with an air of nonchalance. Killian put up a good front, but she could see the hints of self-consciousness there about the scars. Emma didn't mind them at all. She sat up and leaned forward to press a kiss to one scar near his shoulder, then another over his pectoral, then on the one marring his heart.

"Emma..." he whispered, his gaze soft and imploring.

"I know. Just..." Emma said, looking down to try to sort out her own thoughts before looking back up at his face again. "Don't ask me to say anything, not with words. Just let me show you."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought his head back down to hers, kissing him fully as she lay them both back down on the bed. She offered him long, sensuous kisses, trying to express all the things she couldn't say before he settled himself between her legs.

After having a partner for the last three nights that seemed to be only interested in getting Emma to a climax she wasn't allowed to experience, the evidence of Killian's arousal pressed firmly against her center reminded her just how much he wanted her. This was meant to be an act of union, both wanting to experience each other's bodies as badly as they wanted satisfaction for themselves. She was on an even playing field again. Excitement raced through her at the thought, and she couldn't stop herself from biting his lip in anticipation.

"Letting your inner pirate out to play, Emma?" he nearly groaned, his voice rumbling through his chest in a way that affected Emma almost more than she could stand. How was it possible for a man to be so incredibly hot that everything he did keyed her up even more in real life than he had in her dreams?

Killian's fingers had found their way under her sports bra, teasing at the soft skin on the underside of her breasts and making her shiver with delight. He pushed the bra up to reveal her breasts and she took it the rest of the way, pulling it over her head and tossing it across the room.

He leaned down to kiss her neck, letting her feel his bare chest against hers, his wispy chest hair tickling her nipples as he moved. She could feel his heart pounding in his chest, making her wrap her arms tightly around him and pulling him even closer up against her.

"The feel of your perfect body against mine is driving me out of my senses, love," he murmured against her neck. "Do my scars not make me unfit for you?" He trailed his lips downward, pausing to nip at her collarbone.

"I have plenty of scars of my own," she said, as his kisses moved lower to her breasts.

He laved his tongue across her nipple, causing her to arch up into him. Killian readily accepted her offered body, drawing her pink peak into his mouth and doing unspeakable things with his tongue before releasing her. "None that I can see," he replied cheekily, slowly kissing his way across her chest.

"You're kissing them right now," she replied, just as his lips were hovering over her heart.

Killian paused to look up at her face as he took in her words, searching her eyes for what lines she would allow him to cross. Keeping his eyes on hers, he dropped a soft, tender kiss to her heart. "I'll make it my duty to heal these scars, if I can," he said, his eyes all earnestness.

Emma was sure she felt her heart skip a beat. She nodded back at him, unsure of what to say. He was so captivating he could charm her pants off. Or... he was actually taking her pants off, Emma realized.

That left Emma down to her underwear, while Killian was still in his pants. He was taking his time, kissing everywhere on her body, running his fingers up her thighs in ways that were setting her skin on fire, lavishing every bit of her flesh with adoration.

Killian was so focused on exploring her that he hadn't said anything for a few minutes, and Emma was used to him always running his mouth. She looked down at him in concern, before she realized that his mouth was already busy pulling her underwear down with his teeth, his gaze locked on hers with an absolutely devious glint in his eye. _That_ was a sight that she wouldn't soon forget.

He started kissing a path back up her legs, paying special attention to a ticklish spot inside her thigh that made her squirm. He finally made his way to the juncture between her thighs, taking a painfully long amount of time to explore the area around where she wanted him most. All without saying a word.

"You're so quiet," Emma said.

"I'm concentrating," he replied, quirking a brow up at her.

"On me?" she asked.

"On everything I can do to make you feel as satisfied," he said, placing a kiss to the left of her mound. "And as pleasured," he continued, with a kiss to the right. "And as wonderful," he added, with a kiss above. "As you possibly can."

And then his lips found her center.

She bucked up into his mouth, that electricity shooting from his lips into the most sensitive spot on her body. He used his arm to push her hips back down on the bed, keeping her still so that he could work his magic. He circled his tongue over that little bundle of nerves, bringing his fingers up to massage the folds around it.

He had her panting and writing beneath him in no time. Emma was primed and ready by the last three days, and she felt the pressure within her starting to reach unbearable heights. She was so close to that release that she had been chasing every night.

"Killian," Emma panted, grasping the sheets with her fingers as she whipped her head back and forth at his ministrations. "You gotta get back up here. This is too intense— Ah..."

She was cut off when he slipped his fingers inside her. "A captain has a cunning tongue, Emma. Allow me to demonstrate," he said, continuing on with his work.

Killian was a man that always seemed to be teasing at his lips with his tongue, as if he was advertising what it could do. Emma was cursing herself for taking this long to find out.

He gently sucked on her, rolling his tongue against her bundle of nerves as he expertly curled his fingers up to that magic spot. Killian had her gasping and moaning so loud she was worried anyone up on deck would be able to hear her. She grabbed the pillow from above her and put it over her face, biting down into it.

She came with a heavy crash, her whole body tensing up at the sensation as she finally, _finally_ found her sweet release. She could definitely believe that Killian had saved her life.

Emma had figured that a demon that feeds off of sex would be better at this than any man, and dream Killian had been _damn_ good. But nope, the real thing was a million times better.

"Bloody hell, love," Killian said, his voice rough and hoarse. "The way you're keening you're going to finish me off before I even get a chance to get inside you."

Emma chuckled happily as she let her eyes fall closed with satisfied exhaustion. She felt him crawl up her body, pausing to kiss her breasts and run his tongue over her sensitive perked up nipples, making sure she woke right back up again. When he reached her face, he locked his eyes with her.

"We're not finished yet," he said with a quirk of his brows.

She swallowed heavily, still breathing hard, and nodded, the anticipation buzzing through her.

He hopped off the bunk for a moment to finally do away with his pants, and Emma got more than an eyeful of what to expect from him. She briefly wondered if maybe she should have done some preparatory stretches beforehand, before he dashed those thoughts from her head by climbing on top of her and giving her another mind-blowing kiss. He nestled himself between her thighs and ground against her, coating himself in her juices. Emma moaned at the contact, slippery and sopping wet. She'd never be more ready to take him in than she was now.

Killian pulled back to look into her eyes as he positioned himself, his eyes brimming with both heady lust and warm affection. "Do you want me as badly as I do you, Emma?" he asked, his chest heaving with desire.

"If that demon has proven anything, it's that I want you more," she replied breathily.

He let out a small low chuckle, too aroused to really laugh. "You sure about that, love? Let me show you what you do to me," he said, before slowly pushing into her. He was hard as steel, entering her inch by delicious inch. Emma flattened her legs down on the bed in an attempt to make herself feel less stretched. The result was a sensation of being so perfectly filled, so complete to finally get him inside her, that she felt close to tears.

He paused when he bottomed out, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against hers. "Gods, Emma," he rasped. "You feel so bloody perfect."

She nodded against him, breathing out slowly. "A really nice fit," she replied.

He circled his hips against her, putting pressure on all the right places, making her whimper a little at the sensation. She was still so sensitive, and it felt like she had been wanting to get him inside her like this for so long, that just the thought of it was bringing her close to a second climax already.

"We've always fit together so well," he said, the low timbre of his bedroom voice driving her a little insane. Killian pulled out deliberately slowly, before carefully sliding back in. He stared into her eyes as he began to roll his hips against her, his breath mingling with hers. "Whether you've been my opponent or by my side, you and me, Emma... We're like lightning."

That was an understatement. Killian was really bringing the promised intimacy and it made every move so much more intense. Though they started this with the excuse of necessity, following through in an attempt to save her life, Emma made no mistake. This was making love.

She couldn't find it in herself to mind.

She reached her hand down to rest on his flank, feeling the muscles in his body ripple and wave as his hips rolled against her. He moved like the ocean, like a man who walked with the rising and falling of the sea, even when their ship sailed through the air.

He brought his head down and kissed her again, keeping with his tortuously slow pace as their bodies rocked against each other. Every time he hit home he ground down, pulling a gasp from her lips.

"More," Emma whispered to him. "I want more of you. I want _all_ of you." She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist, bringing him in even deeper. The slight angle change seemed to bring them both closer to the edge, and Killian picked up his pace. Her buried his face in her neck, bringing his whole body in close to hers as he kissed and nipped at her skin.

Emma couldn't help the downright shameless moans coming out of her mouth, she was too out of her mind with pleasure. "Killian…" she breathed, squeezing her eyes shut tight. "I think I— ah!"

She felt herself starting to flutter around him, and he responded in turn by thrusting deep into her in time with the clenching of her inner walls, holding her tightly. She let out one long moan as she came, beyond caring if anyone heard her.

"I bloody love that sound," he breathed. "You're so full of fire and light, Emma." He slowed the movement of his hips as her climax subsided, waiting for her to come back to herself.

It took Emma a moment to realize what he was doing after that, her chest still heaving with her deep breaths. "Why are you stopping?" she asked.

"Just taking a beat to calm myself down," he explained, trying to steady his breathing.

"Why?"

He shot a fragile smile at her, clearly using every bit of his willpower to hold himself back. "I'm determined to see you three happy endings before you surrender to sleep today," he said.

Emma huffed out a disbelieving laugh. "I don't know if I can handle another one."

"I told you," he said, the intensity returning to his eyes as he started thrusting slowly again. He was testing her limits to make sure she wasn't getting too sore, before leaning in again to kiss the soft skin behind her ear. "Completely and utterly sated. I can't leave you wanting more."

His voice was a low growl in her ear and it absolutely wrecked her. She couldn't imagine ever _not_ wanting more of him. "I'm not sure that's possible," she said honestly.

He pulled back and grinned wickedly at her. "You may be right," he said, raising a teasing brow. "I know I'm never going to get my fill of you."

Killian slid back to stand with his feet on the floor and brought her to the edge of the bed with him, never pulling out through the whole maneuver. He slid his hand down her thigh and pulled one leg up so that it was resting on his shoulder. "But I'm not one for giving up," he promised, his voice dripping with seduction.

And suddenly they were back in the game. He was coming in at a totally new angle and hitting spots inside her she didn't even know were there. She was crying out in ecstasy almost immediately with every thrust.

His pace was much more rapid this time, pounding into her with a gusto that she didn't have the stamina to match when she had already been spent twice over. Who knew Killian was so incredibly endurant?

Seeing him standing at this new angle just highlighted everything about him that drove Emma wild. His mussed hair, the heaving of his chest, the sheen of sweat coating his skin, his eyes clenched shut, and his head thrown back. It was a gorgeous picture, watching his body move against hers. It was all really doing it for her, and he was still hitting all the right spots inside her. Emma almost couldn't believe it, but she was on the verge of another orgasm.

"Almost there, Emma?" he asked, keeping his eyes closed.

She nodded frantically, before realizing he couldn't see her with his eyes closed, and gasped out a breathless, "Yes."

"I'm not sure I can hold out much longer," he said, keeping up the frantic pace.

Emma was nearly undone by the admission. Killian was clearly reaching his limit, worn out because he was giving of himself so fully, working so hard to pleasure her. She had never had a lover so completely dedicated to her in bed before. It made her want more than anything else to bring him his satisfaction, and feel him finish inside her.

She put her hand on his heart and slid it up to his shoulder, lowering her leg and pulling him closer so she could slide her hand up to his face.

"Killian," she called, letting the fragile emotion surface in her voice.

He opened his eyes and looked down at her, the vulnerability on his face raw and open. She took in his expression, drawing nourishment from it, before she pulled him down to bring his ear to her lips as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

"I don't want to finish until I feel you coming inside me," she whispered, before she started licking and nibbling on his ear.

She heard the hitch in his breath, before he crashed his lips against hers in a rough, passionate, frenzied kiss.

He groaned into her mouth as he came, pushing as deep inside her as he could possibly go. The feeling of him spasming and filling her up sent her tumbling over the edge after him, her cry mingling with his before darkness crept in from the edges of her vision and she blacked out.

When she came to a moment later, she found Killian collapsed down on top of her, his heart hammering in his chest against her own.

"Did we make it?" he asked between greedy breaths of air. "I may have missed the ending."

"Yeah," she said, nodding against him. "You hit the bullseye."

He kissed her slowly, lazily, as worn out as she was. "I knew we could do it love," he said, his small smile of triumph nothing short of adorable. He rolled off of her and pulled her into his arms, leaving the blankets off of their overworked bodies to let them cool in the warm cabin air.

Emma felt completely and totally sated. She was ready to just roll over and go to sleep, especially with Killian's warm body to curl up against. She was just about to drift off when she remembered, and sat up.

"Oh, you can't stay here," she said.

"It's my cabin," he argued, folding his arms behind his head. "And I think after that performance I earned a bit of respite."

"But the incubus," Emma said, twisting back to look at him. "You need to try to get Regina to burn away the wings once they show up, to see if that can at least get that thing out of you. And in case those three orgasms didn't totally deplete me, I'm not sure I want to be wrapped in your arms when the wings come back at sunset."

"Unlike you, Emma, I slept all night last night. I only need an hour to get my strength back, and I'll be gone long before nightfall," he reasoned, clearly not about to budge. "Besides, I make an excellent pillow. Let me help you rest," he added, pulling her back down to curl up into him.

"I guess I can't argue with that," she said with a yawn, too tired to disagree.

"Sleep well, Swan," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss in her hair.

Emma wasn't sure if she would regret this whole thing in the morning, if she was still alive in the morning, that is. She definitely didn't feel like death anymore. If anything she felt alive and content. More than that, Emma finally felt like herself again, which ironically might be what would send her heart running for the hills in the morning.

But she could worry about that later. For now, she let her eyes drift closed, before she savored one last whiff of leather, spice, and sea salt, and fell into a deep, dreamless, and undisturbed sleep.

Emma woke up still in the bunk in the captain's cabin, feeling more refreshed than she had in days. It was a much better way to wake up than gasping and thrusting against her hammock, to be sure. She hopped out of bed, almost surprised at her own energy, and got quickly dressed before heading out to the main deck.

Just as soon as she stepped out the door she was rushed by everyone who had any interest at all in her well-being.

"Mom, are you okay?" Henry asked. "Hook told us what happened."

Emma froze, her mind going exactly to all the things that happened in his bunk the day before. "He… did?" she asked carefully.

"Yeah, that the shadow monster had been attacking you in your dreams every night," Henry explained.

"Why didn't you tell us, Emma?" Mary Margaret asked, a note of hurt in her voice.

"I wasn't even sure what was happening," Emma said with a shrug. "I mentioned the weird dreams to you the other day, I just didn't know they were killing me."

"We could have helped you once you figured it out," David said.

"Killian was the one hosting the damn thing. I needed to deal with him first," she said, not missing the raised eyebrows when she had called Hook by his given name. She tried to brush past it, not ready to deal with that particular fallout just yet. "What happened when you tried to get the monster out of him?"

"I burned the wings away with a few fireballs to lure it out," Regina said.

"But that just pissed it off," Neal added. " _Really_ pissed it off. It flew out of the Captain and came right at us, didn't even bother trying to fly around or anything."

"The thing was huge, Mom!" Henry said, stretching his arms out wide. "Three times bigger than the other shadow demons, with these super bright glowing eyes and gigantic wings that stretched across the whole ship!"

"It must have gotten stronger each time it attacked you," Mary Margaret suggested.

"Is everyone okay?" Emma asked, suddenly worried as she looked all around the Jolly Roger to make sure everyone was accounted for. She spotted Killian at his usual position behind the wheel, watching her and her family with interest. "Were you all able to take care of it?" she asked, turning back to the group.

"A monster made out of shadow is no match for a well placed fireball," Regina said, tossing a ball of flame up in her open hand as she said it. "It just took a bit more coordination to get it to hold still."

"But the thing is definitely dead," David said, crossing his arms. "No more wings for the Captain."

"I thought he'd be more broken up over it, but he seems to be taking it pretty well," Neal said.

"The fact that the shadow monster was attacking you probably helped him part with the wings a little easier," Mary Margaret suggested.

"Problem solved then!" Emma said excitedly, throwing up her fists in triumph. "Let's get home!"

After a few more hugs, pats on the back, and well wishing sentiments, the group dispersed. Regina, oddly enough, was the last one to hang around.

"Just be careful not to let the solution become a bigger problem than the monster," she said, putting a hand on her hip.

"What do you mean?" Emma asked.

"I know what kinds of monsters feed on dreams. Demons actually," Regina said, giving Emma a knowing look. "And how to stop those monsters from feeding." Regina turned a pointed gaze up at the Captain on the quarterdeck. "Hook won't be satisfied with just dreams."

Emma had been considering that almost the entire time she was in bed with the man, constantly worrying that she would freak out about it in the morning. One look up at Killian told her she wasn't freaked out at all, which was itself a little freaky. Instead, letting him into her heart had been incredibly easy. It might be awhile before she was able to come to terms with him being nestled so thoroughly there. It wasn't something she was going to be able to admit to anyone any time soon, but he had burrowed in deep. She wasn't about to kick him out again.

And Emma knew now why the Hook in her dreams felt so much more dangerous than the real world Killian. It wasn't just because her dream Hook was a literal demon. He was still very much Hook, a very dangerous man no matter how much of a hero he became. But in her head was a Hook that didn't care about her, one that used her for his own gain. In real life, Killian had cared about her almost instantly, and it changed who he was. It wasn't that he was any less dangerous, it was that he loved her. And she loved him in return.

"I've made my peace with that," Emma said, turning her attention back to Regina.

"It sure wasn't peace I heard above me when I was in my cabin yesterday morning," she replied with a roll of her eyes. Emma felt an intense blush creeping up her neck as Regina turned to walk away. "As long as you know what you're doing," she called, leaving Emma alone on the main deck.

Emma's eyes moved from Regina's retreating form up to Killian up on the quarterdeck, his eyes on the horizon. She looked back around the main deck, spotting Neal at the bow of the ship, sitting on the edge with his eyes turned in the same direction. Both men looking forward, both looking for their future.

There was no doubt left in Emma over which direction she wanted to go. But before she could do what she wanted, she needed to do what she must.

Emma walked over to Neal, sitting beside him by the railing.

"You should have told me, Emma," he said, not looking back at her. "We're in a world of magic now. Dreams aren't just dreams." He pushed himself off the railing and turned to stand in front of her, looking back at her with crossed arms. "You shouldn't have to fight off a monster alone."

Emma was getting a little tired of being chastised over this. The beast was gone, the deed was done. "I didn't. Killian helped me fight it off."

Speculation clouded Neal's face before he decided to just outright ask her. "So why did you go to him and not me?"

"Because they were his wings. It was his monster to fight," she said. Neal nodded, seemingly satisfied with her answer. But Emma felt compelled to make herself perfectly clear. "And… because he's who I _wanted_ to help me," she added.

Neal's expression soured. "So that's your choice then? A pirate."

"Yeah," she said, giving a firm nod. "That's my choice."

"Look, I don't wanna be the one who tries to tell you who to do but I'm Henry's dad, Emma," he said, clearly frustrated.

"And you still are," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "But that doesn't make you my partner. Not in this. Not anymore."

Emma had been fighting against this choice for so long because of her past with Neal. He was her first love, the father of her son, and a big part of the woman who she was today. But she didn't feel guilty for not choosing him when she had felt so right in the arms of someone else. She couldn't even think of giving Neal her heart when it already belonged to Killian.

She took her hand off of Neal's shoulder and walked off, making her way up to the quarterdeck. Killian gave her a welcoming smile as she approached him at the wheel.

"It worked! I can't believe it worked!" Emma said, nearly giddy to see him. "I'm not tired at all!"

"Full of vim and vigor, are you?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow in interest.

"You clearly have enough vigor for the both of us," she said as an aside. Killian grinned wide at that, his tongue teasing at the edge of his mouth. "And you got the incubus!"

"Aye, that we did. Shame that I couldn't keep the wings," he said with a sigh. "I rather liked flying about my ship."

"Sorry, Captain," she replied. "If the price wasn't so steep I might have been willing to pay it to see that goofy smile on your face."

"Oi! My smile is charming and effortless," he said, his brow dropping low to his eyes.

"Not when you were flying," she said, flashing him a teasing smile.

"If you had wings you might have given in to the giddiness of flying, too," he replied.

"I certainly felt like I was flying last night," she said, sliding closer to him and dropping her voice low.

His face was nothing short of enraptured as he looked back at her. "You're a bloody marvel, Swan."

"You're the one who did all the work," she said, her grin growing crooked as he made her feel more self-conscious.

"But you held the beast at bay," he countered. "A lesser person may have died from a third encounter with that thing."

"How do you know?" she asked.

"It was clear from the size of that monster that the life force it had siphoned from you was not to be trifled with," he said, brushing a lock of hair off of her shoulder. "You've a great power in you, to be sure. You might try exploring it someday. I hope I get to be there to see it."

Emma grinned and looked down. It was clear that they were both still high off of each other from the way the compliments flowed freely. This might have been her best morning after ever.

"So are we going to just be making moon eyes to each other all day?" she asked, trying to bring them back down to earth.

"Not while I have a ship to run. But look there," he said, pointing out ahead of them. "Storybrooke's just on the horizon."

Emma turned from where he had pointed back to him. "You did it!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck in an ecstatic hug. "You got me home!"

"In more ways than one, so you'll forgive me a bit of morning after basking," he said, sliding a hand onto her back while keeping his hook on the wheel.

"I'd say you've earned it," she said. She pulled back, leaving her hands on his shoulders as she placed a small kiss on his cheek. "Even in my dreams you were one hell of a ride."

"Please, Swan," he said, suddenly scowling. "I don't need to be fighting back jealousy of the demon now."

"It was the demon that was draining me, but it was definitely you it was using to do it." Emma said, stepping back out of his grasp. "The Hook in my head used your lines, had your mannerisms, referred to your memories. That's part of why he was so alluring."

"So I'd be jealous of myself, then," he said, considering her words.

"There was still a big difference between the Hook in my dreams and the Killian that took me to bed," Emma explained. "You were caring, attentive, and seeing to my needs. In my dreams you were just liquid sex."

"You know, love, I can still be liquid sex for you if that's what you're hungry for..." he said, his bedroom voice returning. "I was wondering if it might be a good idea to try to starve the demon again tonight."

"I thought you guys got rid of it," Emma said, frowning in confusion.

"Yes, the demon did get pulled out of me, and we did see it get destroyed," he said, looking skeptical. "But who's to say whether your dreams are free of it? It might be better to once again… deplete your appetite."

Emma's lips parted as she caught on to what he was hinting at. "Can't risk the demon coming back," she suggested.

"Aye, we don't know for sure that it's let up," he said, nodding gravely. "I'm all too happy to assist you again this afternoon."

"Probably a good idea," she agreed, stepping closer again to lower her voice. "What if I wanted to keep starving the demon… long term?"

A flash of pure unadulterated adoration flickered across Killian's face for a brief moment, before he tried to bring himself in check. "I'm game if you are," he said, his eyes full of promise and his voice full of challenge.

"Is that so?" she asked, her hands reaching up to grab the collar of his coat.

His more controlled expression broke, before he reached up to scratch behind his ear with a sheepish smile. "You know I'd follow you anywhere, Emma," he confessed, a slight blush to his cheeks. "You've got me well and truly hooked, if you'll pardon the expression."

"Oh Captain, my Captain," she teased, leaning even closer.

The rumble in his chest vibrated through her, making Emma wonder just how long she had to wait before they could get back to starving the demon.

"Don't tempt me, love," he warned, his eyes darkening with desire. "Unless you want me to end my shift early and keep you abed for several more hours."

"I wouldn't be opposed," Emma replied.

Killian looked skyward, apparently summoning up every last ounce of self-control he had before looking back down at Emma. "Seeing as the Jolly Roger has nearly reached her destination, I'd best be at the helm to take her into port."

"Are you always this suave after sleeping with someone?" Emma asked, grinning up adoringly at him.

"Only to the women I've inadvertently fed off of," he joked.

"We're going to have such a weird how we met story," she said, shaking her head at him.

"What do you mean?"

"We climbed a beanstalk together and I chained you to the top," she began. "Then we circled each other in the imaginary world of Neverland, before a sex demon made me come to terms with my feelings for you."

"And what feelings are those, love?" he asked. Killian stilled, bracing himself for what she would say.

"Like I said before. Show, don't tell," Emma said, snaking her arms around his waist under his coat. "And I'd like to show you every night for a nice, long while."

Then Emma brought her lips up to his, pouring everything she felt into the kiss, not caring who saw it.

Emma didn't need to look back to know there would be plenty who turned and gawked on the main deck. Maybe some in surprise, some in disappointment, maybe even some in excitement, as in Henry's case. The kid did seem to think pirates were incredibly cool. Maybe he wouldn't mind his mom getting together with the fabled Captain Hook.

But she doubted there would be a lot of confusion.

Emma had been the savior and Hook the villain, but the tension between them had been unavoidable by anyone in their orbit. Anyone with eyes had probably figured the two of them getting together was a matter of when, not if. And with Killian's lips locked on Emma's and his body molded against hers like he was made to be there, it was just a matter of making their dreams come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! Thank you so much for reading and letting me share this story with you, and extra special thanks to those who left reviews or comments. I really do get a warm, heartfelt smile at each one!


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